


HetaRozario

by CaptainMotgane



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombies, Biological Warfare, F/F, F/M, Gore, M/M, Multi, Multi-slash, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2014-11-12
Packaged: 2017-11-27 09:59:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 28
Words: 148,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/660674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainMotgane/pseuds/CaptainMotgane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A defective biological experiment threatens to wipe out the entire human population by turning everyone afflicted into brain dead cannibals. The world begins falling apart at the seams, and the only thing holding it together is a group of inexperienced survivors. Multiple pairings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Brother

"Brother, please, you have to wake up!" Feliciano wrapped his arms tight around his older brother's slight shoulders, shaking him as hard as he deemed safe for his now fragile form. It was no use, Lovino did not answer his brother, his eyes remained shut and his breathing laboured, his life hanging on the IV attached to his arm. There was nothing Feliciano could do for him, if he took him off the machine he would die, but if he left him, he would no doubt die as well.

Feliciano stifled a sob, pressing his forehead to his brothers, "don't do this to me, Lovino. Don't force me to make this kind of decision."

Lovino did not open his eyes; he remained unconscious, blissfully unaware of the chaos unfolding around him. Feliciano's babbling wasn't getting through to him, and it wouldn't, because miracles didn't exist and Lovino was still very ill.

"No, no, no, no," a barrage of bullets passed just inches above Feliciano's head, the noise cutting through his quiet sobs. The soldiers were completely disregarding the patients at this point. They carelessly shot through walls, tore through nurses and doctors, and even shot patients who were not infected. The smell of blood hung heavy in the air, it was like being on the inside of a slaughterhouse.

Feliciano started to think that maybe a bullet would be better than what was out there waiting for them. Maybe a bullet would be better than the pneumonia killing him slowly when they were finally on the road…" Feliciano blinked back the tears that were threatening to spill over again, eyeing the heart monitor beeping out its slow monotone next to Lovino's bed. Feliciano had come to a decision.

Feliciano choked back a sob, took his brothers face in his hands and kissed him hard on the forehead. "I am so sorry, brother, but this is for the best…" Without looking back Feliciano left his brother's side and headed for the door as fast as he could, if he stayed behind any longer he would have started doubting his decision. He didn't have any more time to waste. Feliciano began opening the door carefully, peeking around the corner as slow as possible. No soldiers. He could hear them running upstairs to next floor; he could hear their shouts and screams mingling with the roar of gunfire. He was starting to believe that the soldiers would not win the war on the hospital, they were being overrun, he could tell just by the amount of the soldier's corpses scattering the ground.

For every five dead patients there was another dead soldier.

Feliciano shivered and ran as quick as he could to the elevator, throwing himself into it and hitting the button for the first floor without thinking about, there was no room for hesitation. As he descended from the 6th floor, he leaned back against the elevator wall and looked down at his blood soaked shoes. Only then did Feliciano finally realize what was happening, that he had left his brother behind for an inevitable death, that the world had literally started coming apart at the seams in as little as six hours. He wanted to scream, to sob, but he knew he couldn't. He needed to be as quiet as possible.

The elevator dinged, 1st floor.

The doors opened sluggishly, revealing to him slowly a scene that he never thought he would have to bear witness to in his life. Bodies we sprawled on the floor, limp and lifeless, blood painted the walls from top to bottom, the sterile white of the hospital now looked like the inside of someone's body. Feliciano closed a hand over his mouth to muffle a shout and shut his eyes tight; the overpowering stench of blood was making his stomach roil and churn. He couldn't bear it.

For a moment Feliciano considered going to top floor and throwing himself in front of the gun of one of the soldiers. It would be a quick end, better than what he had in store.

Just as he was about to hit the 8th floor button, a loud groan ripped through the air and sent a cold chill up Feliciano's spine. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end at the sound, he was frozen, he couldn't move. He let out a muffled sob as the groaning approached, Feliciano finally moved but he could not find the power to open his eyes, fear sealed them shut. He reached out and slapped at the walls of the elevator, and in his crazed fear he could not find the buttons to change floors. "Please, please don't, please stop!" Feliciano became frantic and finally opened his eyes.

He choked.

A woman stood only inches away from him. Her white scrubs were drenched in blood, her body was limp, and the entire left side of her face was missing, only a gory flap of scalp remained, hanging loose over the broken flesh. She reached out for Feliciano with one of her cold, pale hands. One of her fingers were missing and the others were covered in blood, Feliciano did not understand how the woman was still standing. A normal person would be lying dead in a pool of their own blood.

"She's already dead,"Feliciano thought frantically. This was one of them; this was one of the dead people that came back to life.

Feliciano finally cried out when he realized what was happening, he pushed the woman in the scrubs down to the floor and ran off for the entrance doors. He pulled on the handle of the door and his hands slipped in the blood, he tried again and the same thing happened. He cried out and pulled the sleeve of his button-up shirt down over his hand, using it to sop up the blood on the handle. He promptly pulled it open and flung himself into the open air, he ran out of the parking lot past the denizens of broken and bloody bodies, and onto the highway without looking back.

He didn't stop running until he was out of breath and in the middle of nowhere on the highway.

Feliciano leaned over, hands on his knees as he drew in deep breaths of air. He felt as if he had not breathed since he left the hospital, his chest was so tight and sore. Feliciano drew himself up with a hand on his chest, taking in his surroundings. There was nothing but trees, the road ahead of him, and the soft sound of birds singing in the trees. If he had not just been in the hospital, he would never have guessed the whole world was beginning to fall apart.

Feliciano's breath slowly came back to him, but he didn't move.

If Feliciano had been a stronger person, he would have continued walking, maybe even running, to the sign that stood only a few meters in front of him. If had been a stronger person he would not have begun crying, dropping onto the cold asphalt and curling up in a ball like a small child. If he had been stronger, he would not have let sleep overtake him out in the middle of nowhere with dangers present around every turn.

If he had been stronger, his brother would never have been put in the hospital in the first place…

† -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- †

"Drive more carefully."

"Why?"

"Because some of these people may still be alive, you never know when we might come across a pedestrian."

Ludwig did not understand how this strange man was so calm; they had just come from escaping a mass of people trying to eat them in the middle of a bar. They were both covered head to toe in the blood of, possibly, more than a dozen people, and now they were on the road in a stolen vehicle, driving through – and into – the living dead constantly. There was nothing in this situation that one could be calm about.  
"They could be bit," Ludwig shouted. But, despite protesting, he began cruising at a more even pace, trying his best to avoid the bodies littering the streets.

"There could be a cure."

"They turn too fast; we have no choice but to kill them when they start attacking us."

The dark haired man only looked out of the driver's side window, he didn't seem to disagree nor agree with what Ludwig was saying to him.

They continued to drive on in silence when they reached the highway; the dark haired man was looking out of his window with what looked like unblinking eyes. Ludwig himself was finding it hard to blink, he was afraid that something would happen in that split second of darkness.

That was what happened in the bar, after all.

"My name is Ludwig, I hail from Germany. I came here to vacation with my older brother." Ludwig decided that speaking up would break the tension in the air. They also needed to start talking about what their plan was as they didn't even really know where they were headed.

The dark haired man nodded silently.

Ludwig was slightly annoyed by the man's lack of an answer. This was no time to be trying to hide your identity.

"Your name?" Ludwig asked him with a testy tone.

"Oh, terribly sorry, my name is Kiku. I am Japanese born but moved to America when I was still a small child. I was at the bar in an attempt to relax before my finals."

Ludwig nodded; Kiku was still a university student. Ludwig couldn't help feeling sorry for the guy, he went out to relax and was instead met with something even most stressful than finals.

"So you're a university student," Ludwig flinched when he felt the car roll over a body in the road. "What are you studying?"

"Mixology."

Ludwig almost snorted; he had expected the man to say something like medicine, or Thermo-Nuclear Science. He looked intelligent and carried himself like a sophisticated individual, mixology did not suit his character.

"Oh," was all Ludwig could manage.

He looked up and realized that the sun was starting to descend in the sky; they only had so much time to make it to the next town over. They would not be safe on the road during the night.

"Might I ask what you are doing here on vacation," Kiku slowly looked toward Ludwig. "This part of the United States is not exactly a popular tourist spot."

Ludwig sighed and scratched the back of his head with one hand; it was a habit of his when he thought of something annoying. "My brother, Gilbert, he wanted to come here to meet a girl he had 'fallen in love' with online."

"Ah, well, that's not so terrible," Kiku smiled slightly. "You looked very annoyed when you said that."

"Yes, well, the only problem with Gilbert chasing this girl is the fact that she clearly wasn't interested, and she already had a boyfriend. Gilbert just believed that he could change her mind."

"That is very sad; did it turn out alright in the end?"

Ludwig swallowed hard, his vision becoming unfocused momentarily, "I don't know, I was at the bar waiting for him to come back. He went this way to meet her at a small cantina."

"So this is why you instantly decided on this way."

"Yes."

The inside of the car was silent for another long moment, both of them watching the slowly setting sun warily. It was clear that they were both thinking the same thing, "will we make it in time?"

"I am sure your brother is safe, Ludwig, if he is anything like you." Kiku cut through the silence with his reassuring words. Ludwig couldn't help but smile.

"Yes, my brother is strong." Ludwig felt himself calming down, Gilbert was a strong man, even stronger than Ludwig himself. He would not let a frail dead person take him down without a fight.

The silence grew steadily in the car, but this time it was not uncomfortable. They both had said what they felt needed to be said and that was it, they were both people that would only speak when spoken to or if something important was on their mind. And maybe that was for the better, communication would be key in this world but mindless chatter would not help their cause.

"Stop," this was the closest to raised voice that he had ever heard from the dark haired man. "We need to get out."

"Why?"

"There's a person lying on the road ahead of us, I think that they are still alive."

"He could be bit," Ludwig squinted at the slender form lying curled pitifully on the pavement. As he looked closer he could see the steady rise and fall of the person's chest. If the boy was bit he would have been long gone by now.

Ludwig nodded silently and carefully opened the door of the stolen blue cavalier, before he left he leaned in close to Kiku. "Stay inside the car, we don't need to put more than one person in danger. There could be anything lurking around here."

Kiku nodded his head and huffed out a quick 'yes', watching with sharp eyes as Ludwig approached the person on the road.

The only thing Ludwig didn't understand about this situation was why the man was sleeping out in the open. He would be easy prey for anything that came along, no matter how slow. Ludwig approached the steadily breathing form, looking around himself at every step he took, ears peeled for the sound of rustling bushes or approaching vehicles.

When he finally reached the sleeping form, looming over the slight man, he realized that he wasn't bit almost immediately. The only thing Ludwig realized about this man was the tear tracks running down his dust covered cheeks and the blood on his shoes. It was clear that this man had been through hell, and had probably passed out from exhaustion.

Ludwig leaned over, preparing the pick him up when the man quickly opened his eyes. The smaller man gasped, lashing out with his fists and catching Ludwig in the jaw.

"Don't hurt me, don't hurt me! I'm not bit!" The man waved his hands frantically in front of himself, his accent almost made it impossible to distinguish what he was saying in his frantic state. Fresh tears were already beginning to cut through the old tracks on his cheeks.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Ludwig raised his hands, indicating that he had no weapons on him and that he was not bit.

"Oh," the boy's shoulders slumped, still not getting up from where he was sitting on the asphalt. He was silent, looking down at his shoes as he seemed to be remembering something.

"You pack a hard punch though, little Italian." Ludwig tried to muster a smile for the young man, trying to calm him down. They needed to get going quickly; they had no time to discuss things out in the open while the sun retreated in the sky.

"How do you know I'm Italian?" The man looked up at him quizzically; Ludwig has successfully broken him from his trance.

"It's quite obvious by the accent."

"Yes, my big brother…" Feliciano swallowed hard, "my big brother used to always say that I was sloppy with my English pronunciation."

Ludwig watched the man carefully, something had clearly happened to his older brother to have put him in such a state. Maybe that was what the blood on his shoes was. Ludwig shook his head, he did not want to think about that, and they had no time. They needed to get going.

"Look, uhh…" Ludwig gestured to the Italian man for his name.

"Feliciano."

"Look, Feliciano, it's getting dark outside and the roads aren't going to be safe, we need to go. You can come with us."

Feliciano looked at him carefully, then over his shoulder at the idling cavalier, "how do I know I can trust you people?"

"Look, it's either us or those dead things in the dark, take your pick." Ludwig was in no mood to be playing games, they needed to leave. Lucky for Ludwig, Feliciano stood up soon after Ludwig spoke to him; he brushed off his pants and slowly advanced toward Ludwig, eyes still regarding him carefully.

"You can trust us, there are only two of us and we don't even know each other. We were both caught up in the middle of a big mess, but we managed to escape and steal this car."

"Ok, then. I trust you," Feliciano nodded his head at the taller man, following behind him as he headed for the small cavalier.

Feliciano piled into the back seat and closed the door quickly, leaning his head heavily against the back seat rest. "For the first time since this started, I'm not out in the open." Feliciano sighed, and instead of sitting upright he chose to lie down in the backseat.

"This is Feliciano," Ludwig says to Kiku. "he is from Italy."

Kiku nodded, "Pleased to meet you, Feliciano, my name is Kiku."

"Hello, Kiku," Feliciano whispered to him in a pleasant but tired voice.

"My name is Ludwig; sorry we had to meet under such circumstances."

"Ooh, Ludwig, a big strong German," Feliciano hums. "I guess we're going to be safe then."

Kiku lets out a small chuckle at Feliciano's carefree choice of words, and all Ludwig can do is chuff at the words, the young man's mood had gone from miserable to upbeat in a matter of seconds.

"May I ask where we are going?" Feliciano asks, surprising both Kiku and Ludwig who had thought he had fallen asleep.

"Back to Cincinnati, I'm looking for my older brother." Ludwig felt there was no reason to lie to the boy.

There is a long, drawn out silence from the back, "oh, you have an older brother as well, Ludwig?"

"Yes, we were here on vacation."

"My big brother and I too," Feliciano says sadly. "I'm afraid, though, Ludwig, that soldiers were wiping the city clean while I was running away."

Ludwig feels his heart stop in his chest.

"They weren't even bothering to check if they were bit or not anymore, they were just killing everyone," a small sniffle comes from the back. "It was so awful, all those poor innocent people."

"Was this out in the streets, or were they sterilizing a specific area?"

"Sterilizing," Feliciano says to himself, as if testing the word. "That is quite a way of putting murder."

"That's not what I meant…"

"It was the hospital," Feliciano cuts in. "I had to bring my brother there in the middle of our cross-country trip. He fell into a cold lake and developed hypothermia because I took too long to get to him. He developed severe pneumonia shortly after." Ludwig watched in the rear-view mirror as Feliciano hung his head low, "I had to leave him behind in the hospital; there was nothing else I could do."

"I'm so sorry, Feliciano, I had no idea…"

"I thought about it really hard, you know? I thought, if I take him off the IV he will die from the pneumonia, and it will be slow and painful, and if he doesn't die from that right away, he will probably be killed by one of these… Zombies, on the road. I thought it would be easier to let him die from a bullet one of the soldiers pumped into him rather than me dragging him around while he slowly died."

Kiku put his head down in respect, and Ludwig could do nothing but choke on his words as he tried to think of something to say to the man. It was so terrible; Ludwig shuddered at the idea of losing his brother in such a way, of being put in such a horrible position.

"It is my fault that he is dead, because he would not have gotten the pneumonia in the first place if I had just jumped right in for him instead of calling for help like a baby."

Ludwig looked up, eyes meeting intensely with Feliciano's in the rear-view mirror, "don't say that, that could have happened to anyone. You would have ended up dying yourself if you threw yourself in. Now stop with the self-pity bull shit, we need to make a plan. "

Feliciano kept his eyes on Ludwig's for another minute, but they eventually closed and his lips turned up into a bitter smile. "You're right, I'm sorry."

Feliciano's eyes met Ludwig's again, but they were not bitter or sad anymore, they were happy. "Now let's go find your big brother."


	2. Angel

Antonio kicked the cabinet door open and gasped for air, crawling out on his hands and knees like a beaten animal. He had been hiding from the soldiers, hoping that when they sprayed their bullets, one would not dig through the small and cramped cabinet he had been hiding in. He believed that if he could survive, he could help the remaining patients that were not yet dead.

His knees had been pressed tight to his chest, his whole body had been cramping from being kept in the same uncomfortable position for so long. There had been barely enough room inside the small cabinet for him to breath. It didn't help that Antonio was severely claustrophobic.

Antonio remembers the anticipation he had felt clearly, everything had grown silent after the soldiers had left for the upper seventh floor. There had been a lot of screaming and a lot of bullets, but it was clear that the soldiers had been overrun.

"Good," Antonio said to himself, pushing himself up from the floor and brushing off his scrubs. He was currently on the sixth floor. He had hidden himself in a small receptionist's desk when he realized the soldiers were killing everyone, not just the infected.

Antonio's elation was quickly cut short, though, when he glanced at the devastation around him. Bodies were piled one on top of the other in a half-assed attempt at clearing a path. Blood soaked the floor and walls like a flood had rushed through the building. He saw his fellow nurses, he saw some of his patients, he saw soldiers, he even saw some children among the bodies.

Antonio's eyes widened, unable to believe the sight before him.

Everything, everything was gone. Everyone was gone.

Antonio clasped the sides of his head, unable to take his eyes off of the mess, certain that what he was seeing was nothing but a sick dream. He tried to tell himself that he had fallen asleep in the lunch room, that it happened all the time too him. Lying to himself failed to calm his nerves, though.

A low, but easily discernible gurgle rang from down the hall. Antonio was wrenched from his stupor, quickly falling to his knees and hiding himself behind the reception desk. It was clear from the sound that it was not a normal, living person making that kind of noise down the hall. Their breathing was laboured and wet, their feet slid along the floor as if the person were just dragging themselves, and the noises they made were certainly not human.

Antonio stayed as quiet as possible, waiting for the creature to pass him by.

Slide, slide, slide, stop. - Slide, slide, slide, stop.

The creature made the same gruesome noise as it dragged itself down the hall. Antonio felt his stomach clench at the sound. What if it could smell him when it got close enough, what if it already knew that he was behind the reception desk?

Antonio tried to tell himself that the creature could not catch his scent over the smell of fresh blood flooding the halls, but who was he to know? He didn't even know what these creatures were to begin with. The only thing Antonio knew was that the creatures running rampant around the hospital looked an awful lot like some of his own patients.

Antonio patted his pockets hopefully for some sort of weapon, a pen, a scalpel, a stethoscope. Anything. There was nothing in his pockets, though, and nothing he could see anywhere near him. He cursed his bad luck as he quietly dug through the drawers in the reception desk. The sound was getting increasingly closer, if he was going to find something; he needed to do it quick.

Slide, slide, slide, stop. - Slide, slide, slide, stop.

"Yes,"Antonio huffed under his breath as he found a small screwdriver and a sharp iron nail file in the reception desk, and without even thinking, jumped up from behind the reception desk to face the horror trudging down the hall.

Unfortunately for Antonio, it was not just one horror making its way down the hall, it was multiple horrors.

Antonio looked head on at the group of, at the very least, twelve clearly dead patients limping and dragging themselves down the hall. He stood bone stiff in fear directly in front of them, only running when they finally seemed to catch his scent and realize that he was still a living being. They were running quickly after him, to Antonio's dismay, the dead creatures could run.

Antonio's messy brown curls lopped in his eyes as he ran away, turning corners in a desperate attempt to find a room with a door still intact. There was nothing, as far as the eye could see. It looked like the inside of a building in Warsaw after World War II.

He turned another corner and saw an elevator, but in a fit of rage realized that the elevator was stuck on the first floor. It wasn't going anywhere anytime soon and Antonio did not have the time to wait for it to slowly climb the floor to him. But, just when he thought he was going to be stuck running for hours, he saw it, a door. There were bullet holes in the door, but it was still standing completely intact and sturdy despite the wound. Antonio chanced one more glance behind his shoulders. They still hadn't turned the corner, if he was lucky, they might have completely lost his trail.

Antonio opened the door, ran inside, and shut the door as softly as possible behind himself, and without a second of hesitation, pulled the master key from around his throat and jammed it into the lock, pleased when he heard the satisfying click of the lock turning in place.

Now the important moment began for Antonio, waiting to hear if the creatures had lost his trail or if they knew exactly where he went. Antonio waited with bated breath; eyes closed tight and throat constricting as he waited for the loud gurgling and groaning of the creatures to pass the door.

Antonio held the screwdriver tight in his hand when he finally heard them turn the corner. Even though he couldn't fight off twelve of them, he didn't want to go down without a fight. He needed to at least take two out, his pride couldn't take less than that.

They didn't stop, though, the sick sound of their breathing and strange cries disappeared down the hall, as did Antonio's fear. It was as if they had completely lost interest after they lost sight of him, or it could have been the fact that they were distracted by something. Whatever it was, Antonio was thankful for it.

It didn't matter to Antonio though, he sighed in relief and slowly lowered himself to the ground, head pressed heavily against the heavy wooden door. If he was lucky, he could sneak out and take the stairs to the surgical ward, there would be rations there and other medical equipment he could possibly use as a weapon. If he made it there, his chances of escaping the hospital would increase.

Antonio slowly took in the room around him, it wasn't as bloody and gruesome as the last few rooms he had been in. There was still blood on the floor, but not nearly as much as he had expected. And luckily, there were no dead bodies lying around.

Then he saw it, as his eyes scanned the room, they happened upon a body behind a curtain. Not the same kind of body that he was used to seeing, though. This body was lying flat in a hospital bed, and it was still breathing. Antonio took in another deep breath and got to his feet slowly. Even though the body behind the curtain looked completely normal, he couldn't be certain that it wasn't another one of the creatures from before.

Antonio slowly approached the curtain, trying to stay as calm as possible as he reached his hand out to pull the curtain aside. When he finally managed to pull the heavy cotton curtain away, he was surprised by what he saw.

A young man, maybe four or five years younger than him, lay in pristine condition in the hospital bed. He looked completely untouched, unaffected by the events that had occurred just moments before around him. Not a speck of blood marred his smooth and pale skin, not a hair was out of place on his head. His face was peaceful and relaxed.

When Antonio looked down a small rosary peeked out from between his entwined hands, someone had clearly put them there.

He looked like an angel.

Antonio reached his hand out to touch the man's cheek; the skin was warm and soft. Antonio didn't think anyone had survived, and yet this man had done it without being aware of it, and to add to it, he had done it without a single scratch.

Antonio took a seat on the edge of the bed, yanking the pamphlet of paper off of the side table next to it. He skimmed through the man's medical documents.

From what Antonio was reading, this man was from Italy and his name was Lovino Vargas. He had fallen into a cold lake when fishing with his brother and developed hypothermia and pneumonia, and, to add insult to injury; went into cardiac arrest from being submerged for so long.

"Poor guy," Antonio said quietly, brushing the hair back from the young man's face. He was conflicted as to what to do, in the man's current state he couldn't get very far without his IV, and even then, he probably wouldn't be able to walk for a while. Antonio couldn't stay here forever. "What do I do with you?" Antonio questioned, looking at the young man with his eyebrows furrowed. He didn't want to leave the man behind to die. It would be a little sad considering he had survived so far without any injuries.

"muy bonito," Antonio whispered."I don't think I could leave you behind even if I wanted to." He moved his hand away from the man's head, letting his hair fall back into place. Instead, Antonio favoured the Rosary clasped between the boy's hands tightly. It was as if he was unconsciously praying.

Antonio tried to pull his hands apart but almost shouted when the boy's eyes shot open. Two beautiful emerald colored eyes looked up at him.

"Feliciano," the man shot up in bed, looking from side to side for this 'Feliciano' person in a panic. The man looked at him square in the face, "you, Mexican nurse, where's my little brother?"

Antonio choked on his words, this young man that had looked like an absolute angel was now calling him down, thick and rough Italian accent heavily present. He may have looked like an angel, but he certainly didn't speak or sound like one.

Antonio finally spoke up, "lower your voic-"

"I'll lower my voice when you tell me where my little brother is, fucking Bastard!" The young man, Lovino, began cursing.

"Ok, first of all, I'm not a 'Mexican nurse', and second, I don't know where your little brother is. In fact I don't know where anyone is."

"What the hell are you on about?"

Lovino was started to lift himself up on the bed, but cried out loudly when he moved too quickly.

"Easy, easy, Lovino…"

"How do you know my name?"

Antonio picked the pamphlet back up from the bed side table, holding it in front of Lovino.

Lovino snatched the pamphlet out of Antonio's hand without another word, quickly skimming through the information given about him. "I had a stroke?"

"Yes, that is what it says."

Antonio watched as Lovino experimentally moved each of his arms and fingers, lifted his legs and moved his toes, then held his hands up to his face and smiled. At first Antonio though Lovino was acting strange because of the medication, but he quickly realized that Lovino was checking to see if he had lost any of his bodily functions.

"You were treated quickly and the stroke wasn't that severe," Antonio pointed at some ineligible scrawl on the pamphlet. "It says you are expected to make a full recovery." Antonio watched Lovino who was still checking to see if his face was paralyzed.

Lovino eyed him with an angry fire in his eyes, but his cheeks betrayed him by burning bright red, "what are you looking at, bastard?"

Antonio finally smiled, already he could see right through the young man, tough on the outside, but really soft on the inside. "Nothing, you're just very beautiful."

Lovino choked, "don't say things like that you fucking pervert, you're supposed to be my nurse!" Lovino sharply turned his head away from Antonio, "I should fucking sue for sexual harassment."

Antonio was about to chuckle but it quickly dawned on him that it was neither the time nor place to be flirting with a patient. They were in a very serious situation and something dangerous could happen at any moment.

Antonio grabbed Lovino's arm in a tight grip, "look, Lovino, don't yell and don't get mad, I have something very serious I have to tell you."

Lovino's eyes opened wide, "my brother, is my brother OK?"

"This isn't about your brother," Antonio said, something warming inside him at the very apparent love he had for his younger brother. "I don't know where he is but he is lucky if he avoided the hospital."

"Why?"

"This is going to be hard to believe, Lovino, but I need you to listen to me, and listen closely because we're in a very dangerous situation."

"Wh- what are you talking about?" Lovino looks away from Antonio's face, eyes carefully taking in the room for the second time. "Are those- are those bullet holes in the wall?"

It seemed that since Lovino had woken up a bit more, he was noticing the little details in the room, "yes, Lovino."

Lovino glanced furtively around the room, and finally Antonio can see his eyes happen upon it, the blood on the floor. There was not nearly as much as in the halls and in the other rooms, but enough to startle someone quite bad. "Oh my," Lovino holds a hand up to his mouth. "Oh my god, why is there blood all over the floor." In panic, Lovino once again tried to move but was stopped short, crying out from the pain for the second time.

"Yes, Lovino, that is blood. Let me explain to you why it's there."

"Oh my god, I told my brother I didn't think coming to America was a good idea. War broke out, didn't it? These God-damned American's are always picking a fight with someone, and now look, I'm not even American and I'm stuck in the middle of all of this! I knew this would happen, I knew it, I knew it…" Lovino was obviously about to go into shock, babbling on about nonsense. Antonio could only hope that he would snap out of it when Antonio made him realize the gravity of the situation.

Antonio grabbed Lovino by both shoulders and shook him hard, hard enough to warrant a gasp of pain from Lovino. "Look, Lovino, this is not war… Well, I don't really know what it is, but the important matter at hand right now is that we are stuck in the middle of whatever this is and we need to find a way out."

Lovino's eyes were still wide with fear but he was finally listening to what Antonio had to say.

"People started coming back to life, no explanation. The bodies in the mortuary that were awaiting transport suddenly started walking around. At first we thought it was a medical miracle, but when they started biting people, eating their flesh right from their bodies, we realized that there was something very wrong. We all scattered in panic, we tried to protect the patients but the number of the dead began to steadily rise. The previous people who had been bitten turned and started biting others. It was chaos."

Lovino looked like he was having trouble believing Antonio; he probably would have laughed and called him a liar is Antonio had not been trembling so hard.

"We had no choice but to call in an emergency, it was so severe that the police were not enough. They called in the military."

"So did they get them all?" Lovino himself was beginning to tremble, "surely a force like the American Military could take down a few dead people?"

Antonio shook his head, "I'm afraid they all died, and no reinforcements have come since then. I'm assuming that this disease has spread to far more places than just this hospital."

Lovino shook his head in disbelief, "no," he laughed, "no, no, no." Lovino looked into Antonio's eyes in disbelief, "so does this mean that some of those god damn zombie-creature-things are still walking around out there?"

"Yes, that is exactly what it means. That's why you have to lower your voice." Antonio whispered harshly. "The only reason I found you was because I was chased into this place by a dozen of them."

"Jesus Christ," Lovino ran a hand through his silky brunet hair, the sunlight making it glint red. "Feliciano, oh no, my little brother," Lovino put his head in his hands, only then realizing that he was still clasping the wine colored rosary in his right hand.

"He may not have even been here when the outbreak started, if he was lucky, he probably got carted off to the military bases around the city."

Lovino looked up, shaking his head, "my stupid little brother would not have left my side, he had to have been here when the outbreak happened." Lovino closed his eyes, "I know he was here, I remember"

"You were lucid when he was here?"

"Of course not," Lovino said, looking slightly flustered. "I can just feel it, OK? I know my brother was here with me."

Antonio smiled at him and ruffled his hair, "you really love your brother, don't you?"

"Of course I do, fucking idiot, he's my dumb little brother, my dumb little brother that I know was here."

Antonio looked down, "your door was closed, Lovino, whoever was here left and made sure to close your door behind them."

Lovino looked at him in disbelief, "so you want me to believe that he left me here to die?" Lovino was beginning to raise his voice again, "you want me to believe that my brother left me here to be shot or eaten?"

"I don't know, Lovino, I don't know." Antonio did not meet his eyes again.

"I have to look for him."

Antonio looked up at this.

"My little brother is so innocent," Lovino's mouth turned down in a scowl. "If my brother is in here somewhere he is scared, and he can't protect himself because he couldn't hurt a soul, even if they were trying to kill him."

"It's not safe out there, Lovino, we would have no chance against those things. Forty U.S. soldiers could not hold them off with guns and strong weapons, how will we do it?" Antonio did not want to say no to Lovino, he really wanted to help him, but they just couldn't take the risk.

"That was at the head of the outbreak, right?"

"Yes."

"Well they must have calmed down by now; the masses should have split off. If we're lucky, they will only come in groups of two or three."

"Lovino," Antonio shook his head. "Did I not just tell you that I was chased down by twelve of those creatures in one big group?"

"Maybe that's as bad as it gets."

Antonio sighed, he wanted desperately to brush Lovino's cheek and tell him that it was alright. He wanted to wipe that sad expression off of his face and tell him that his brother was safe and sound. But he couldn't, that was the reality of their situation. He couldn't lie and tell Lovino that his brother was safe because they could very well find him dead around the next corner.

"I don't think so, mi belleza,"Antonio sighed. "The problem is, we can't stay here forever. Your medication is going to run dry in about two days, and the medication in most of the other rooms is either destroyed or in a dispensary."

"Why don't we look for a dispensary, then, if it has everything we need."

"About that," Antonio sighs, "I'm new to this place, and as a nurse, do not really have access to any of that."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Lovino shouted, "you're just as fucking useless as any other person."

"The dispensary would be no good for long term anyway, Lovino, there is no food, water, or weapons that we could use there."

"So what are we supposed to do?" Lovino had finally calmed down enough to listen to reason.

"The surgical ward is only two floors beneath us, if we can get there, it has everything we need to stay put for a few days. Then, hopefully, we can escape."

"Wait, what floor are we on right now?"

"The seventh floor."

Lovino sighed, "fuck, why did my brother bring me to such a big hospital… In Italy our hospitals have three floors, four at the most."

"It's like that over here too, you just happen to be in one of the biggest hospitals in America." Antonio scratched the back of his head, "I know, this is probably the worst possible position to be in."

"No kidding," Lovino brushed a loose strand of hair out of his eye. "So what do we do, I mean, I can barely move."

"We can wait the night," Antonio whispered. "It's far too risky to go out there right now; those things are probably still looking for me."

Lovino sighed as he lowered himself down onto the bed again, "good, I don't think I can keep my eyes open any longer."

Antonio watched Lovino sleep until the moon took the sun's place in the sky, only choosing to fall asleep on the adjacent bed when his eyelids became too heavy to keep watch.

**† -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- †**

"Lovino," Lovino felt a hand on his shoulder, shaking him lightly back in forth. His eyes were too heavy and his body too sore, he chose not to respond.

"Lovino, you need to wake up, we have to get going."

The day before finally came back to Lovino, he opened his eyes and craned his neck to look at Antonio standing behind him. "Can't we wait a little longer?" Lovino was so tired that keeping his eyes open was already becoming an unbearable problem.

"I'm sorry, Lovi, but your IV is running out," Antonio shook the IV next to his bed to draw his attention to it.

"I'll be fine," Lovino said, his eyes slowly shutting. "Wait a second," Lovino sat up in bed, "what the fuck did you just call me… Lovi?"

Antonio laughed, "do you not like that?"

Lovino cursed the blood rushing to his face, "no, I don't like it, and don't fucking forget that I'm still legally your patient." Lovino mouthed a quick 'bastard,' under his breath.

"I'm only a nurse, Lovi, and you're not on my list of patients," Antonio had the gall to smile at Lovino. "I wish I had been, though."

Lovino blushed furiously. "Fuck you."

"Lovino, you look like a little tomato!"

Lovino crossed his arms and pointedly looked at the door leading out into the hall, "don't we need to get going, Mexican nurse?"

Antonio laughed heartily, "yes, Lovino, we need to get going."

"Good, I don't think I can stomach your stupid face any longer…"

Antonio finally stepped away from Lovino's bed, walking over to the door and glancing out of the window cautiously. His easy and calm air had completely disappeared as soon as he started toward the door. "I don't see anything yet," Antonio was speaking lowly. He opened the door quietly, peeking left and right.

"Anything?" Lovino asked, the blush on his cheeks finally disappearing. Instead of red, his cheeks were turning white, losing all of their color at the idea of the horrors that could wait around every turn. Whatever was out there was enough to spook the normally smiling and happy nurse.

"No, it seems pretty quiet out there, actually." Antonio was quiet for a moment, looking back and forth again. "By the way, Lovino?" Antonio's head was still hanging out of the door, but he looked back when he finally spoke to Lovino, "I'm Spanish, not Mexican." The smile was back on his face.

Lovino huffed a curse under his breath, "same thing."

Antonio scratched the back of his head as he approached, "not exactly…"

Just as Antonio was going to continue his speech about the differences between Mexican and Spanish people, Lovino's stomach growled violently.

"Wow, you have a monster in there," Antonio said through a laugh.

"Go to hell, damn Spaniard."

"Hey, you got it right!" Antonio smiled as he swooped down and unexpectedly scooped Lovino up from the hospital bed, careful to not pull out his IV.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Lovino cursed and thrashed in Antonio's arms, but stopped when a sharp pain made his chest constrict. He gasped and put two hands on his chest, as if he could suppress the pain.

"That's why," Antonio said. "You're far too weak to be walking around right now, you're still very ill."

Lovino rolled his eyes but otherwise did not protest to what Antonio was saying to him.

"Plus, it's no problem for me to carry you, I'm strong!"

"My ass," Lovino said, reaching around himself to pointedly squeeze one of Antonio's biceps. "Like I suspected, softer than an uncooked meatball."

Antonio only laughed, it seemed like nothing made him angry.

Lovino would not admit it out loud but when he reached back, Antonio's bicep was stronger than he would have imagined for such a lanky frame. He had to pretend not to be impressed when Antonio reached out, one arm still supporting Lovino, as he grabbed the IV next to the bed.

"Could you drag this behind us, Lovino, I'm afraid I'm not quite strong enough to handle both of these things."

Lovino grabbed the IV from Antonio's hand without responding to him. He felt pathetic, there was a god damn zombie apocalypse happening and he couldn't even walk. He was the character that died right away or got everyone else killed.

Antonio walked to the door and threw it open without checking outside again, which was where he made his first, biggest mistake.

There were two of them, two gaping dead soldiers; one was missing an eye and a portion of his jaw. The other had his intestines hanging out from a huge gaping hole in his stomach. They looked far more terrifying and gruesome than Lovino could have ever imagined.

"Run, dumbass, run!" Lovino was so stricken with horror he hadn't even realized he had screamed at Antonio. He hadn't even realized when Antonio had started running, and he barely noticed the two zombies hot on their trail. They were quick, just as agile as a living person, actually.

Antonio turned a corner and Lovino saw it, the door that would lead down to the surgical unit, their safe haven. Antonio was running fast but Lovino realized that he was holding him back, he probably would have been down the stairs by now, judging by how quick the man seemed to be. Lovino cursed himself for having to be so incapable at such a crucial time.

Just as Lovino was about to breathe a sigh of relief, thinking that they were home free, a horde of those creatures came shooting around the opposite hallway. They were trapped, just like that. Behind them there were two of them, and in front of them there were at least ten or twelve, it was most likely the horde that Antonio had run from previously. Lovino himself was looking frantically when his eyes settled on the wooden door beside them. It looked like it had been quite badly damaged, but it would be better than nothing.

Antonio stopped in his tracks, looking behind them and then in front of them, he was completely stuck for what to do. "I'm so sorry, Lovino, so sorry…"

"You fucking idiot," Lovino grabbed the master key hanging from Antonio's neck, and jammed it into the door beside them. The damn Spaniard was in such a shocked state that he seemed to have completely forgotten that he had a master key on him. He jammed the key into the lock and shoved the door open so hard it rattled on its hinges when it hit the adjacent wall. Lovino kicked Antonio in the back of the knee to get him moving, "inside the room, idiot."

Antonio finally seemed to snap out of it, pulling the key out of Lovino's hand while walking quickly into the room, he turned the lock and frantically started knocking shelves and pushing cabinets in front of the door, there was no hesitation in the Spaniards actions. It was as if he had been through something like this not too long again, like he was experienced in this type of situation. When Antonio finished knocking shelves over and pushing metal cabinets, he flicked on the harsh fluorescent lights in the room.

Antonio's sullen mood suddenly switched, "we're in a dispensary, it's a miracle."

Lovino looked around at the fallen bottles of pills and various medicines, syringes and surgical gloves were all over the place.

Antonio got to his feet and walked to a cabinet two shelves behind the large metal ones he had propped against the door. He was digging through the shelves and a loud bang rang through the door, making Lovino gasp and Antonio look up in fear. For a dead person, that knock seemed like something only a very strong person would be capable of. However, the sound stopped and just regular knocks and groans filled the room.

Antonio came back with a large bottle of saline, a new intravenous bag, two clear bottles labeled trimethoprim and sulfamethoxazole, and a plastic pill bottle labeled Warfarin. Antonio shook the bottle of 'warfarin' in front of his face, "your report said that you had atrial fibrillation, so this is the only anti-coagulant that you can use."

"Anti-coagulant… Why?"

"They're typically given after someone has a stroke, no matter how small, just to be safe. You're young though, and your stroke didn't happen naturally, so you probably don't need these." Antonio smiled up at Lovino through his sweaty brown curls, "just to be safe."

Everything grew quiet for a while, sole for the steadily decreasing bangs on the door and the sound of Antonio replacing Lovino's fluids. While Antonio worked away Lovino finally started thinking about their situation, they were trapped in the middle of two groups of seemingly powerful monsters, and they had no weapons and no food.

Lovino rested his head against the concrete wall and looked up at the ceiling, they were completely fucked.


	3. Jealousy

Gilbert didn't think it was possible for the girl he had been communicating with for so long to be any more beautiful than what he had seen online, but she was. Her gorgeous face, framed with long golden blonde hair, smiled brightly from across the café. Gilbert felt his heart bump up into his throat, causing him to swallow thickly.

Without thinking, as she ran toward him, Gilbert spread his arms for her. Elizaveta's face lit up as she approached, laughing wildly as she bounded into his arms.

"Gilbert, I can't believe you actually came!" The silky green ribbons in her hair sparkled in the open café.

"I couldn't not come," he said, his voice sounding softer to his ears than what he had intended. "It was a long drive, but it was worth it."

"Is your brother still mad about it?"

Gilbert laughed, "when is my little brother not angry with me? I swear he's got a stick stuck straight up his ass." His eyes widened when he realized his vulgarity, but before he could excuse himself Elizaveta began laughing wildly.

"According to my mother, all German's have a stick stuck up their ass." Elizaveta's pearly white teeth shone through her mischievous grin as she chuckled. Gilbert had forgotten for a moment that Elizaveta was not the type to gasp at the use of profanities, rather the one that chose to use them frequently.

When Elizaveta stopped laughing she let go of Gilbert's shoulders and backed up, "come with me, I have a table saved for us." As he and Elizaveta squeezed between tables and people, she turned around and smiled at him, "you're a lot taller than you sounded."

It took a moment for Gilbert to realize what she had said, and as they approached the table he cursed, "how the hell do I soundsmall?"

Elizaveta didn't hear him though, because when they reached the table she greeted a dark haired man with a scarf tied delicately around his throat.

"God damn hipster,"Gilbert thought to himself.

"This is Roderich," Elizaveta gestured as she introduced the clearly uninterested man beside her, "he's the friend I told you about."

Roderich looked Gilbert up and down, sizing him up quickly, "pleasure to meet you."

Gilbert balked at how blatantly rude the man was, but Elizaveta clearly didn't notice and Gilbert did not want to start their first meeting off with a fight. Gilbert bit back his anger and tried to be as polite as possible, "the feeling is mutual, Roderich."

Elizaveta remained oblivious as Gilbert and Roderich's eyes met, both threatening as they tried to impose their dominance.

"Gilbert," Elizaveta's voice made Gilbert forget about his glaring match with Roderich, "why don't you take a seat, I'll go talk to the waiter."

Gilbert nodded quickly, sitting down across from the only man in his way to Elizaveta's heart. Gilbert watched him as he sipped his tea carefully, eyes shut and eyebrows creased as if he were considering something. He was becoming infuriated by the man's utter disregard for him, eyes shut and ignoring him as if he were not even sitting across from him. "So you're the friend Elizaveta kept talking about," Gilbert snorted, "you're not nearly as friendly as she told me."

Roderich opened one eye, and the hand holding the tea cup to his lips was brought down to the table calmly. He turned his body so he could face Gilbert head on, and smirked as he sized him up yet again. "I just want to tell you one thing and one thing only, Gilbert," Roderich sneered, "Elizaveta isn't interested in you, and she never will be."

Gilbert leaned forward, elbows planted firmly on the table, "and how would you know this?"

Roderich simply shrugged, "I know her better than anyone else."

Gilbert opened his mouth, ready to bite back with an insult about Roderich's voice, but was stopped in his tracks when a shrill scream rang through the café. Gilbert and Roderich both stood at attention, both clearly looking for Elizaveta. Instead of Elizaveta, Gilbert's eyes stopped on a young woman by the front of the café, lying on the ground with a man on top of her. Gilbert couldn't tell, but from the looks of it, the man was biting her. Others were trying to wrestle him off of her, but no one was of much help as it was becoming clear that more than one person was being attacked.

The whole café filled with screams. The whole block.

Roderich finally broke the silence, "we need to get Elizaveta, come on."

Gilbert nodded silently, following quickly behind Roderich. The group in the café was substantially decreasing as people began running onto the streets, jumping into their cars, or just blindly running away. Gilbert didn't know what was going on, but whatever was happening was not good.

They stopped at the end of the café, they found Elizaveta sitting on a bar stool, eyes wide and dazed, glued on something in front of her. Roderich and Gilbert followed her eyes and were both shocked at what they were seeing. The woman that Gilbert had seen being attacked was lying in a pool of her own blood on the ground. Her stomach was torn open; the contents of it were spilled onto the pavement beside her for all to see. The worst part about her was not her gored body, though, but the way her eyes were rolled back in their sockets, and the way her mouth was turned down in a scowl from the pain.

Roderich walked up to Elizaveta and covered her eyes, but she didn't react, she was in shock. Gilbert didn't know what to do; he just stood there as he took in the chaos that was happening on the street, the sound of Roderich trying to snap Elizaveta out of her daze nothing but the background noise to what was happening before him.

His ears began to ring.

"There's no time for this," Gilbert's head swung to the right from the force of Roderich's fist colliding with his cheek. "You can't do this now; we need to get her out of here."

Gilbert turned toward Roderich; he had Elizaveta cradled in his arms. Her eyes were open, but they were glazed over and she was completely unresponsive. "What-" he began, but Roderich shouted at him.

"Don't ask me what's happening right now, because I know just as much as you. The only thing I know is that it is not the time or the place to be discussing what's going on. We need to get somewhere safe!"

Gilbert nodded his head, he was still not fully lucid, he still felt like he was in a dream, but he knew what they needed to do. He grabbed Elizaveta from Roderich, despite his protests, and motioned toward the emergency fire axe enclosed in a glass case behind the bar. "Take a chair, break the glass, and cover me."

Roderich nodded, Gilbert was happy that he was not arguing with him. At least he knew what the stakes were if he wasted time by arguing with him. Gilbert watched the outside of the café carefully, making sure that none of the people on the street were walking in suspiciously. It seemed that the people who started the attack were too busy chasing after people on the street.  
Gilbert heard the sound of a chair scraping the ground behind him as he continued to watch the madness unfold. It was strange to Gilbert, but it seemed as if the amount of people attacking were increasing. Instead of just five people committing the assault, there were now at least twenty. Maybe it was something organized.

The crash of the glass breaking behind him caused him to turn around, "do you have it?"

"Give me second," Roderich's voice was strained; it sounded like he was having trouble with pulling the fire axe off of the wall. So much for use in emergency situations.

Gilbert focused his eyes back on the road after watching Roderich struggle with the axe on the wall. He looked back at the street, but quickly realized that there was something wrong.

The lifeless body of the battered and gored woman on the ground began to twitch and shake. Her eyes rolled back in their proper place, and from her mouth came a sound so inhuman it caused Gilbert to take an unconscious step back. Gilbert was so taken aback by the woman that he couldn't muster a reaction as she began getting to her feet, intestines hanging out obscenely from the gaping wound in her stomach.

Gilbert took another step back, then another, and another, until his back hit the bar.

The woman was completely on her feet, eyes open and aware, but she was not the same woman. Other than the obvious fatal wounds on her body, there was something else missing. Even though she was moving and clearly breathing, there was something so lifeless about her. Gilbert couldn't react as she began walking toward them, her feet sliding along the ground was the only thing he could hear.

She got closer and closer until she was only an arm's reach away from them. Then she suddenly stopped dead in her tracks, blood poured down her face like a stream. Gilbert could only watch silently as she dropped to the ground in a lifeless heap.

It took him a long time to realize that Roderich was standing beside him, fire axe in his hand, and covered in blood. He was panting heavily, eyes trained on the dead woman lying on the ground at his feet. The axe he clutched in his hands dropped to the ground with a loud clatter, his eyes misted over, his mouth turned down in a heavy scowl. He was hyperventilating.

Gilbert's eyes widened as realization set in. Roderich had killed the woman.

The screams that Gilbert had been filtering out came flooding back, the things happening on the streets played in front of his eyes, the weight of Elizaveta in his arms became heavy and real. This was happening, this was really happening; he needed to snap out of it for real this time.

"Roderich, pick up the axe and come with me," Gilbert's voice became stern and commanding. "You told me yourself, this is not the time or the place for this kind of thing!"

Roderich stopped hyperventilating; he looked up at Gilbert from between his bloodied fingers with a cloudy but understanding expression.

"It needed to be done; this woman was no longer herself. Elizaveta and I would have both died if you hadn't done it."

"How do you know her intent was to kill?"

Gilbert indicated the chaos happening on the street not even fifteen feet away from them. "Look at what's happening out there, Roderich, half of those people out there should already be dead."

Roderich watched the people running and screaming on the streets for a long moment, before he casually smoothed back his hair and leaned over to pick up the fire axe. He clasped it in his hands experimentally, looking at the mutilated body of the woman at his feet with a pensive expression. "You're right; there is no time to be taking chances."

All too loud groans caused Gilbert and Roderich to look up, only to find a number of people beginning to crowd into the café.

"God damn," Gilbert bit out under his breath, looking around the café for a place to make their escape. His eyes happened upon the emergency exit behind the bar, it was their only means of a safe escape from the café. Roderich seemed to have seen the same thing as he threw himself over the bar again, reaching over and grabbing Elizaveta from Gilbert's arms without hesitation.

"Hey, what are y-" Gilbert watched as Roderich bolted for the emergency exit door, shoving it open and running through without so much as a look back at Gilbert. Gilbert himself tried to ignore the strange behaviour in favor of the large amount of people – seemingly intent on ripping him apart – quickly advancing on him. He followed Roderich's action and jumped over the bar, running to the exit door, and then…

Gilbert pushed the on the handle of the door but there was no give, it wouldn't budge, it was almost as if someone was holding it shut from the other side.

Gilbert's eyes widened, he began banging on the door with both of his fists, "don't do this to me, Roderich, don't pull this kind of shit with me!" Gilbert's fists relentlessly pounded on the cold metal surface of the door, but to no avail, it still refused to open for him. Or rather, Roderich refused to open the door to him. "Listen to me, Roderich, you won't be able to protect her all by yourself, it's not safe out there!" Gilbert tried to desperately plead his case, not only because he wanted to live, but because he wanted Elizaveta to live as well.

Gilbert picked up a bar stool and threw it blindly into the crowd of advancing people.

The door finally opened, and Roderich stood on the other side with Elizaveta in his arms. It took every bit of power in Gilbert's body not to pounce on Roderich and rip him apart. The door slammed shut behind him, and he stood in front of Roderich, staring him down.

"I don't know what happened," Roderich said, "the door somehow got stuck."

Gilbert nodded his head at Roderich, watching the axe hanging from his arm carefully, "I'm sure." Without any warning, Gilbert grabbed the axe and held it next to his side. Roderich backed away from him quickly, watching him through furrowed brows.

"You wouldn't do that," Roderich smiled, "you wouldn't risk harming Elizaveta."

"You're right," Gilbert said. "But that is the only reason why."

The sound of the metal exit door being beaten on finally got Gilbert and Roderich's attention; they didn't have the time to fight.

"Let's go, I think I know a place that's safe."

"How far away is it?"

"There's an abandoned hotel not too far from here, it's all boarded up. It could be a good place to take refuge, if anyone else hasn't had the same idea."

"It's better than nothing; I know what you're talking about." Another loud bang rang through the air, "but we need to go now."

Gilbert nodded.

**† -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- †**

Elizaveta was aware of brief snatches, she heard groans, she heard the voices of Roderich and Gilbert. She heard them panting and calling out to each other. She heard the sound of glass being broken and the sound of people crying and begging for help.

She felt like she was floating.

**† -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- †**

Gilbert and Roderich ran down the road with a group of, at the very least, fifteen people chasing after them. They were fast, but there was something severely wrong with them, something completely inhuman about the way they carried themselves. They did not have the time to analyse them, though, they had to run as fast as they could and garner the smallest amount of attention as possible.

"I can see it, it's right up ahead!" Roderich called, only a short distance from behind him. Gilbert was now holding Elizaveta in his arms; Roderich was covering them from behind. After they had been put in immediate danger, they decided that arguing and threatening to kill each other was not the best idea.

When they came to the building Roderich led Gilbert through an opening in the fence, and when they finally managed to crawl through Gilbert was happy that they could finally breathe and relax. The small cut in the fence was too hard for the other people to manoeuver through, and the people following behind them were slowly starting to lose interest. There were still a lot of them, but the numbers were decreasing.

Gilbert watched as a group of them crashed into the fence, fingers gripping the cold steel and teeth trying to gnaw through. This was the first time since the outbreak had happened – only hours before – that Gilbert had seen one of the attackers up close. Up this close, he could finally tell that these 'people' were not really people at all. Their eyes were glazed over, their mouths hung agape, and most of all, they did not act like a human. They acted like animals.

"There is no time to be staring off into space like a buffoon, we need to go. We can't depend on this fence to keep them away from us forever." Roderich was standing tense, clearly ready to get going.

Gilbert followed him without another look back; he didn't want to see those strange animal-like people anymore.

When they turned the corner to the back of the building, the silence was deafening. The only thing that cut through the silence was the sound of Roderich and Gilbert's loud gasping breaths. They could no longer hear the sound of the people behind them groaning and screaming after them.

"There's a broken board up ahead, Elizaveta and I used to sneak inside as children to play with firecrackers."

Gilbert couldn't help but be jealous at the mention of Roderich and Elizaveta's childhood together. They were so close, they knew everything about each other, and Gilbert had barely scratched the surface. He could only dream about having such a friendship with Elizaveta. Gilbert absently tugged at the hem of Elizaveta's shirt as Roderich slipped the board off of the broken window.

"When we're settled down and we've made sure there's no one dangerous here, we can board it up again until all… Whatever this is, is over." Roderich looked at Elizaveta with worry in his eyes, "then we need to find water for her and lay her down."

Gilbert nodded, following Roderich as he carefully climbed through the broken window. When he was inside, he reached his arms out for Gilbert to hand him Elizaveta. He really didn't want to, but he knew acting like a petulant child would not help their case. Besides, Elizaveta was in complete shock, she would not remember anything that happened after the café. Gilbert was hopeful for that, no one deserved to have that picture permanently imprinted in their mind.

Gilbert handed over Elizaveta, took the fire axe from Roderich, and stepped in through the broken window.

The inside of the building was as generic as Gilbert expected it to be, there was your typical broken, plastic chandelier hanging from the ceiling in a ballroom type entrance. The floor was covered in basic brown and beige. The stairs that led up into separate floor and rooms were basic pine wood.

"How many floors up?" Gilbert looked at the questionably damaged elevator, almost as if someone has intentionally jammed it recently.

"Ten."

"That's good, the higher up the better."

"Yes, we would be better off on the top floor. If something were to happen – god forbid – if some of those things break in here, we'll have more chance to get away or hide."

"Yes," Gilbert watched silently as Roderich started toward the stairs. "Roderich stop."

Roderich stopped in his tracks and turned around to face Gilbert.

"I think there's someone else here."

"It doesn't seem like it."

"Look at the elevator."

Roderich craned his neck to look at the elevator, his eyebrows furrowing the longer he looked at it. The crowbar jammed into the elevator was certainly new, it wasn't rusted at all. "I don't remember that being there, and I was here not too long ago by myself."

"Why would you do that?"

"I like to be alone when I write, and this is the perfect place."

Gilbert nodded, "didn't ask for your life story."

Roderich glared at Gilbert for a long moment but chose not to continue the fight, quickly rolling his eyes in response and looking away from Gilbert. "We don't need to worry about that; it's probably just Heracles…"

"Heracles…?"

"Yeah, he's the resident hobo, I guess you could say. He's quite good company though, he's quiet and he likes to sleep, and he's fairly clean for a claimed 'homeless person'."

"Is he really homeless, it doesn't sound like it?"

"Not really, he has quite an inheritance from his family; he just likes loafing around all day. This is the perfect place for him to do it."

Gilbert jumped and almost shouted when he felt something brush up against his leg, only calming when he realized it was just a cat.

"He also has a penchant for befriending cats…"

"Ugh, I fucking hate cats."  
_

**† -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- †**

When they had Elizaveta propped onto the bed, her legs stacked up higher than the rest of her to stimulate blood flow; both Gilbert and Roderich fell asleep on the two beds adjacent from hers. But they were both woken in the middle of the night by the sound of glass smashing, followed by a loud scream. Roderich instantly sprung up from the bed and ran to Elizaveta, Gilbert chose to stand in front of the door. The voices coming from down on the first floor were clearly very human, and there were only three of them. They couldn't be very harmful, but they still couldn't run down without question.

Just as Gilbert was about to walk to Elizaveta's bed to check on her with Roderich, he heard it.

"Gilbert," an all too familiar voice rang through the hotel, the voice he thought he would never hear again. "Gilbert, are you in here!"

Without thinking, Gilbert grabbed the fire axe beside his bed and ran to the stairs.


	4. Hush

Tino was running as fast as his short legs would allow him. He was ripping through shrubs and lilac bushes, jumping over fences like a cat, and panting like a dog in the middle of a heat wave. But, despite his legs trying to give out underneath him, he continued running. Not because he wanted to run, but because he couldn't stop.

He was running through suburbia gone to hell.

Tino was running from his neighbours, his friends, and worst of all, his family. But they weren't really his family anymore, no. His family would never eat the family pet while it was still squirming and yelping on the ground, his family would certainly never feast on the neighbourhood children like they were prized pigs.

His family would never chase him down with the intent to kill.

Tino hadn't even realized the tears streaming down his face until he could taste the salt on his tongue.

It was so strange, the sky was blue and the day was pleasantly warm, a soft breeze tousled his hair, and the neighbourhood looked just like it had every other day. If one took away the crying and incessant screaming, there would be no indication that anything was wrong at all.

When he finally deemed it safe enough he came to halt behind a tall oak tree, taking refuge in the shade under its massive sprawling limbs. He looked around frantically as he took in deep, heaving breaths of air, being sure that there was nothing still on his tail.

He shook his head in silent resignation, taking in the scene around him. Nothing had changed; it was still the same quaint suburban neighbourhood.

It was only when he heard the loud, booming cry that he realized exactly where he was. He was in front of the house of the small child he used to babysit, Peter, was the small boys' name. He was just a little child, give or take 14 to 18 months old.

Hearing Peter's crying got Tino so on edge that his heart – which had just started slowing to a normal pace – began to pump even faster in his chest than what it was when he was running. The thing that got to Tino the most about the crying was the fact that the cries of the child were not the standard whining cry, but the cries of absolute distress and panic.

Tino couldn't even fathom the idea of leaving a small child behind to suffer a fate such as that of the neighbour's children.

He swallowed hard around a thick lump in his throat, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes with the flats of his hands in an attempt to ready himself. He wasn't thinking about saving himself anymore, he was thinking about the child inside the house. Without another second to spare Tino heaved himself over the white picket fence surrounding the Kirkland house and landed on the warm green grass on the other side with a huff.

Tino looked up at the large adjacent house with a critical eye, but it looked just as pristine and happy as it always did to him. But of course, judging a book by its cover was clearly not the right thing to do, seeing as that kind of judgement was the reason why he walked into his house even after seeing the front porch drowning in blood.

Tino swallowed thickly.

He was beginning to make up excuses for himself, trying to find a reason to not have to go to the door. Things like, "maybe he was just being fussy," or, "maybe there's nothing wrong on this side of the neighbourhood."

It was only when another loud cry rang through the backyard that Tino remembered why he had thrown himself over the fence in the first place. Everything was turning sour in the area, and Peter was stuck in his house where something was clearly wrong. The neighbourhood was far too quiet for there to not be something wrong. At this point, the sounds of sirens and alarms should have been ringing through the streets.

Instead of taking a few cautious steps forward, Tino ran toward the back door. He realized that if there was something wrong, or something happening to Peter, one second could be enough time for the child to meet his demise, and it would all be on Tino's head.

He did not want to be the negligent party in a child's death.

Tino opened the back door without even thinking of the possible consequences, of what could be waiting for him on the other side. He didn't even bother looking in through the window to see any possible threats. He didn't even grab for any sort of weapon to protect himself with. Tino was so scared and enraged that the only thing he could think about was grabbing Peter and running away with him. He could find a police station, tell them what was happening in town, and return baby Peter to the Kirkland's.

When Tino stepped into the house he didn't even bother sparing the grotesquely mangled cat on the ground a second glance. He took to the large staircase that he was so used to walking up, and leveraged himself on the bannister while he took the stairs three at a time. And when he reached the top floor he ran around corners with blinding speed, following his memory to the nursery, where he hoped Peter would still be resting.

When Tino whipped around the corner to the nursery, however, he was finally forced to stop dead in his tracks; because, at the door of the nursery stood the Kirkland's. Both mother and father clawing at the door like sick animals. Their fingernails were lifted and bloodied from scratching at the door for so long, and the wood beneath their fingers was worn and close to breaking.

On the other side of the door Tino could hear Peter's cries.

Tino took one step back, then another, until his shoulders collided with the adjacent wall. The Kirkland's looked the same as they always had. Victoria Kirkland and Albert Kirkland looked like the same emotionless business tycoons as they always had. Tino couldn't see anything wrong other than the cloudy, glazed over look of their eyes.

They hadn't seen Tino yet, still too distracted by the sound of the crying baby, their crying baby, on the other side of the door; the baby that they were, most likely, going to tear apart when they finally managed to scratch their way through.

Peter continued with his loud, booming cries on the other side of the door. And if Tino didn't act fast, those cries would cease forever.

Tino clenched his fists as he watched the Kirkland's scraping at the door with their bare hands, trying to figure out how he would take the two of them.

From what he had witnessed when he arrived home from his job, his older brother was having no trouble holding down the next door neighbour and eating him alive, so it was clear that whatever they had hadn't made them any weaker. Tino was small for a young man, and he wasn't very powerful at that, so he had to calculate his next few moves carefully or he could end up being the main course for the Kirkland's.

Tino looked around himself for anything that he could use as a weapon, but found nothing other than a small ceramic vase. He didn't want to risk moving anymore in fear that he would alert the Kirkland's, so he decided to make do with what he had.

He wasn't aiming to kill, just to knock them out or stun them to give him enough time to retrieve the baby. He hoped that whatever illness the area had succumbed to wasn't spreading to other parts of the city.

He tried to force himself to believe that it was something curable.

Tino tightened and relaxed his fingers around the vase as he judged what way would be the best way to attack the Kirkland's. He was just about to calmly walk forward and strike one of them when a loud snap rang through the air. It was so loud that they baby stopped crying, and made Tino stop in his tracks.

The Kirkland's broke the door down, with their combined weight and the deep scratches in the door; it could no longer sustain itself.

Instead of taking the calm and calculated route like he wanted to, Tino went into a frenzy. He didn't have the liberty of taking his time anymore; Peter Kirkland's life was depending on his actions.

Tino let out a loud yell to distract the Kirkland's, hoping that being a bigger prey, they would be more interested in trying to make a meal out of him. They subsequently stopped in the middle of their trek like Tino had hoped, and turned to look at him. A loud, pleased sounding noise rang forth from Victoria Kirkland, followed by Albert's own hum of approval.

They were taking the bait.

Tino backed up and held the vase – clenched between both hands – like he was getting ready to hit a baseball.

It was Victoria Kirkland that he hit first; he would remember it as clear as day for the rest of his life. The sound of the vase shattering to pieces, followed by the loud crack of her head as it hit the ceramic floor. He remembers staring down at her with a panic-stricken gaze, wondering if he had killed her or not. He had been so disturbed by what he had done that he wasn't paying attention to Albert Kirkland only a few feet away from him.

He only noticed him when Albert wrapped his hands around his throat and throttled him to the ground.

Tino let out a choked off sound when Albert opened his mouth, revealing his bleached white teeth, as he prepared to take a chunk out of Tino. Tino cried out, his free hand frantically scouring the ground for a broken piece of ceramic. When his hand happened upon a piece, he didn't even have time to think about what he was doing before he plunged the broken shard into Albert Kirkland's left eye.

Albert Kirkland stopped moving, and so did Tino.

He just killed Albert Kirkland; he just stabbed him in the eye with a piece of ceramic glass. The cold body lying dead on top of Tino was a man he used to babysit for, a man who used to pat his head and ask him how school was doing. Albert Kirkland was a man who loved his two children – albeit in a strange way – and probably had no control over his actions.

Tino wanted to cry, to scream, but he needed to get Peter and bring him to a safe place, and even if he did choose to cry, the weight of Albert Kirkland would not have allowed him to do so.

Tino shoved the lifeless body of the man to the side of him, quickly standing up and brushing himself off. He looked back at the damage he had done, saying a silent prayer for the Kirkland's, and for their older son who was, hopefully, not in a similar situation.

Tino had a hard time believing that after what he had seen, though.

Tino trudged toward the nursery, rubbing at the bruising flesh on his neck. His legs felt weaker than what they had even after he had run. His face felt damp and clammy, and his clothes clung to him like they were covered in syrup. Tino tried not to think about what was covering him, he tried to tell himself that it was sweat covering him.

Despite his best efforts, as soon as Tino reached the nursery he felt the attack coming on. The smell of fresh blood and the idea of what he had just done finally becoming too much for him to ignore. Tino leaned forward, holding himself up straight with his hands on his knees, trying to think of something other than what was going on. But, in the end, he found himself unable to hold back his lunch from the afternoon, and expelled all of the contents of his stomach on the carpet.

This was just the beginning of his attack.

Just as Tino was starting to feel the asthma attack starting to pull at his lungs, a sound stopped him, but it was only putting off the inevitable attack. From the nursery, Peter Kirkland began cooing softly, reacting to seeing Tino's face peeking around the broken door frame.

Tino's face lit up upon seeing Peter safe and sound. Peter's pudgy cheeks turned up in a large, adoring smile.

"Peter," Tino walked toward the small crib, stooping over the crib to look in at the small baby who was currently reacting to having his name called by Tino. He gurgled and let out a small snort, his little arms reaching up for Tino.

Tino picked the baby out of the crib and examined him for any wounds; he looked fine and sounded fine as well.

Tino brought the baby to face level. "Hi, Peter, I haven't seen you in a while!"

Peter only cooed and grabbed Tino's nose in response.

Tino smiled, finally his heart was beginning to calm its frantic pace, and finally the smell of fresh blood stopped assaulting his nose. Finding Peter had made him feel so much better than he had almost completely forgotten about being covered in blood. It almost completely made him forget the increasing tightness in his lungs.

He should have known.

Tino's smile fell even though he tried to keep his spirits up for the oblivious baby, "we need to go, Peter, I need to get you somewhere safe before I collapse."

**† -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- †**

Berwald was never someone that used words as a way of expression, rather he chose to use facial expressions and small hums to let people know what he was thinking or feeling. It was not because he was shy or anxious that he never spoke, but because he could never think of anything to say. He could never get his voice out.

Even now, in this situation, Berwald could think of nothing to say. He got back to his apartment to realize that the entire complex was taken over by denizens of people hopped up on something that caused extreme violence. They were so wild and off the wall that Berwald could barely hold his own against some of the smaller ones.

He was also almost certain he had seen blood on a few of them.

He chose to leave the place, deciding that if he drove around for a while the police would probably have the place cleared out by the time he came back. What he didn't expect was the whole street to be filled with those strange people.

"There must be another drug legalization protest going on," Berwald thought to himself, but at the same time flicking the automatic locks on the doors. There was no danger in taking precautions; there had been a number of instances when innocent bystanders were taken down by angry protesters. Berwald didn't particularly fancy being a statistic in some stupid protest.

Berwald started slowly advancing on them, frowning at how they were so oddly scattered. Usually groups of protesters would clump together and scream and shout with signs held over their heads. There was none of that going on.

Berwald's frown deepened when some of them started noticing him, but instead of ignoring him or shouting something, they started lugging themselves toward the car.

Berwald honked the horn when two of them walked out in front of the car and started walking toward it. Berwald had to bring the car to a near halt at this point. He didn't want to hit anyone, but he wanted them to think that he would and revved the engine.

Still no reaction, in fact, more of them started toward the car.

Berwald laid on the horn.

He started rolling down the window to tell them to get away from his car, and considering he was not a person for confrontation, this meant something was wrong. What caused the concern was that he saw something in their eyes, or rather, didn't see something in their eyes.

But, when the window was halfway rolled down, and Berwald was about to open his mouth, a hand reached through the window at him. Berwald leaned away from the hand, trying to open his mouth and speak but nothing was coming out.

This was the exact situation that his speech therapist spoke with him about, the situation where he would get so mad that he really couldn't find the voice to speak up.

Berwald instead started rolling up the window so the person reaching their arm in at him would get the hint that he wasn't playing. But they didn't catch the hint, even when the power window was forcing their arm and crushing it against the interior plastic.

Berwald pulled his hand off of the power window button and instead pressed his foot down on the gas. Surely the people surrounding his car wouldn't be foolish enough to choose to stand in the way of the moving vehicle.

Berwald had been wrong in stranger situations, but this one took the cake. Instead of moving out of the way for the car, they began trying to climb onto the car. As if climbing the car would help them escape being hit. They were acting as if they were completely mindless.

Berwald brought the car to a halt again, thinking that a lawsuit was the last thing he needed in his quaint little factory life. He wanted to say something to them, wanted to at least tell the man with the arm in his window to move, but he couldn't find the voice. Instead he sat there with his mouth hanging agape and no sound coming out but short little choked sounds.

He pounded one fist on the glass and managed his best glare, but still, the arm remained inside his car, reaching for his face.

It was only then that Berwald realized that the situation he was in was far more than just angry protesters hyped up on some sort of new drug, and that if it was drugs, it was very intense ones. There was blood under the nails of the hand reaching in through his window, some of it was old blood and some of it was new, suggesting there had been more than one offense. In fact, as Berwald started looking through the windows in his car at the other people surrounding him, he realized most of them were stained with blood. Some only had light spatters of blood on them, but others were covered from head to toe.

A few of them even had blood around his mouth…

Berwald stepped on the gas, no longer concerned about the well-being of the people surrounding his car. Surely they weren't concerned about his; they were trying to kill him.

The car didn't move, it only made a light humming noise in protest to the gas pedal being pressed down on.

In his moment of realization Berwald had let too many of them surround his car; he would never be able to drive through them all. His little Volkswagen could barely hold a large load of groceries, let alone half of his neighbourhood.

As the numbers increased Berwald heard several tension snaps from behind him that he knew didn't mean anything good. When he turned around, he saw that the back window of his car was about to collapse from the weight of everyone trying to force their way in.

He would have been better off running from them.

That was when it occurred to Berwald that he could run away.

Berwald looked up at the power sunroof on his car, glad that none of the protesters had decided to try to climb through that. He was lucky that they seemed to be too simple to think about anything other than the task at hand. If Berwald was fast enough, he could open the window, climb through, and hopefully jump over the crowd.

At this point Berwald really wished he had accepted the gun his father had tried to force on him for his birthday.

Berwald grabbed the power window button and forced it down, biting his bottom lip in hopes that none of them would realize what he was doing. When he deemed the window too slow, he grabbed the roof and snapped it off.

There was no point in worrying about what happened to his car anymore, and he could use the window to protect himself.

Berwald gathered his bearings and stood up on his seat, his towering height allowed him to climb onto the roof with relative ease.

As soon as the protesters saw Berwald on the roof, though, they grew ravenous. Instead of just casually trying to get at him, they all ripped at each other, through each other, to get to Berwald. The sounds they made had him cringing as well, as they got increasingly louder when they could finally see him fully.

They just couldn't manage to climb the car.

He observed the crowd, trying to judge how many of them had gathered around and where his best vantage point would be. But, as he was scanning, he saw something lying on the road that made his eyes widen and his head spin.

On the side of the road there lay a small boy with white blonde hair, surrounded in a pool of what Berwald was sure was his own blood. In his hands he clutched a small stuffed puffin, its white face soaking in the blood of the child.

Berwald could only look in horror at the lifeless child on the road.

This had proved his theory that these were not just protesters, there was something severely wrong with these people.

Berwald looked away from the child and began scanning the crowd again. There was no point in dwelling on it; there was nothing he could do now for the dead child, he could only wish that he had gotten there sooner.

Berwald jumped from the car when he saw a path that was fairly open. But he landed on his ankle with a painful crack and fell to his knees with a shout.

Finally, his voice.

Berwald clutched at the ankle, it wasn't broken, but he had definitely bruised it with the jump.

The crowd of cannibals, as Berwald had chosen to call them after seeing the child, were already steadily advancing on him.

He tried to get up once, but put too much pressure on his ankle and fell to the ground with a pained and frustrated shout.

He held the glass of the sunroof out in front of him as one of them tried to fall into him. It didn't react, only opened its mouth and put on display a pearly set of white teeth with flesh wedged in the gaps. It was trying to bite him.

This finally got Berwald on his feet, and despite the blinding pain, he began running away from the scene.

He was being chased down by a group of insane people, all coming after him for the sole purpose of eating his flesh. He felt his heart race at the idea, and decided not to look behind him and focus instead on the task at hand. He needed to find refuge, or at least find a police station where he could tell them what was happening.

**† -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- †**

Berwald had been running for so long, he hadn't even realized the air beginning to cool down. It was close to sunset, and Berwald was completely lost. He had been in such a panic, for the first hour he was running without any direction.

He halted under the shade of a large oak tree; his pursuers had long since stopped following him. With his back against the tree, he felt his eyes trying to slip shut, the silence was so peaceful.

The loud sound of a baby bawling pierced through the thick veil of silence, causing Berwald to look toward the house behind the fence to his left. But the crying wasn't the only thing that got Berwald's attention, it was a sound he had heard coming from his mother all too many times.

The sound of his mother wheezing and gasping for air.

Berwald stood on the other side of the fence, looking at it as if it would become transparent and reveal to him what was on the other side. When that didn't happen, Berwald grabbed the top of the fence and pulled himself up to see over.

He looked around the yard yet he could see nothing, but he could still hear the sound of the child crying and the horrific wheezing, and it was clearly coming from somewhere outside.

Berwald's brows knit together in confusion as he scanned the backyard over and over, but finally it occurred to him.

Berwald looked up the tree he was currently standing under, and realized the sound was coming from directly above him. The sound was coming from a small tree house.

He dropped himself down from the fence, careful to avoid landing on his inflamed ankle, and looked around the tree for a ladder.

The ladder was really small, so small only a child could really climb it properly. He assumed immediately that it was a child up there with his small brother, and considering the entire neighbourhood was covered in blood, they were probably hiding. Berwald didn't want to scare them, especially the one having the asthma attack as it would only make it worse, so he tried to announce himself.

He opened his mouth, but his voice wouldn't come out.

He cursed himself, eyes glaring down at his shoes as if getting angry at himself would help him find his voice again.

"Come on, I need this,"he thought to himself, clenching his hands into tight fists at his side.

"Are you OK?"

Finally, his voice; Berwald was so pleased with himself he could almost smile and laugh, his speech therapist would have been proud of him working under pressure. He wouldn't allow himself to get excited thought, it wouldn't be good for the situation he was in.

The wheezing voice became louder, but it wasn't from being scared, it was the asthmatic trying to speak. Nothing was coming out, though, but Berwald knew they were trying to ask for help.

"Stay," it was only one word, and Berwald wished he could say more, but it was better than nothing.

Berwald used the small grips on the ladder to bring himself up, but being as tall as he was, he could have easily grabbed a branch and pulled himself into the small fort in one go.

On the last grip, Berwald ducked his head as much as possible to fit into the insanely small fort, the weight from his own body was hurting his own ankle but he chose not to say anything about it. He needed to help whoever was hurt.

Berwald looked up and was shocked, the person wheezing and gasping was not a small child like he thought. The person he was seeing was almost as small as a child, but they were clearly much older, a high school senior, or a college freshman at the most. He was holding a small baby and rocking it back and forth, wheezing so much that his face was pale, he was near passing out.

Berwald reached his hands out, forcing himself to say, "give me." It came out sounding more demanding and intimidating than he wanted, but the boy was about to drop the baby and possibly hurt it, albeit unintentionally, and Berwald didn't want to see that happen.

The boy only looked at him like he was insane, and clutched the baby tighter.

"You will hurt the baby," Berwald said, arms still outstretched.

The boy looked down at the baby in his arms, eyes scanning Berwald carefully. The boy opened his mouth to say something but only a loud wheeze escaped.

He fell back but Berwald was fast enough to grab the baby from his arms.

The boy crashed into the wall, his breath coming in even shorter bursts than before. He was clutching at his throat and squeezing his eyes shut, no good, he was beginning to panic.

Berwald dragged himself up next to the boy and without a word, pulled the boy forward with one arm and pressed his chest to his own. He settled the baby in his outstretched lap where it finally stopped crying so much, settling down to soft cries and murmurs.

The boy seemed frightened by Berwald's actions at first, pushing at his chest weakly. He stopped quickly though, when he realized that Berwald's intentions were not bad.

Berwald sat there with the boy for a long time, so long that the sun had completely set before his breathing began to settle. For a while, Berwald was afraid that the boy's panic attack had gotten so severe that he wouldn't be able to come out of it without being hospitalized, but he relaxed in time. He only wondered why the boy didn't have his inhaler on him, considering it was something so important one would think it would be the first thing picked up; especially in such a stress inducing situation.

Berwald decided to ask those questions at a later time, and looked down to check on the boy, only to realize that he had fallen fast asleep along with the small baby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I named the Kirkland's after British royalty; Queen Victoria and Prince Albert, to be exact.
> 
> Also, I'm sorry for how boring these chapters seem, I'm just trying to get all of their back stories in order before I move on to the real plot. I promise after the next chapter it will start getting better, just hang in there!


	5. Wake Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we have it, my friends, the last chapter before things start getting more interesting! After this we're going to have a lot of character interactions, a bigger plot, and way more drama - with a side of rrrromance!
> 
> Stay tuned.

"…ake…p…red…," Alfred felt someone's hand rest on his shoulder, shaking him in an attempt to wake him up.

"Go away," Alfred mumbled, slapping the hand off of his shoulder. "I aced my mid-term; I'm taking the day off."

Alfred felt the bed dip next to him as whoever was trying to wake him sat down.

"Aced, are you kidding me? Alfred, you passed by the skin of your teeth."

Alfred would recognize that uppity voice anywhere. "It's a pass, that's all that matters."

"Not when you're going to be an aircraft mechanic, Al. That takes hard work and fantastic grades."

Alfred finally sat up at this, staring at Arthur dead in the face. "Do you think that I'm not a hard worker, Arthur? I've been busting my ass for this for the longest time. I'm tired, I've been over-working myself, and I need some time to cool down." Alfred threw his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, "I'm allowed to take a break every now and then."

"I know you're a hard worker."

"Right, you know more than anyone," Alfred walked into him and Arthur's joint bathroom and stood in front of the vanity, curling his cold toes into the carpet. He pulled out his toothbrush and began brushing his teeth, continuing to talk despite the mouthful of toothpaste muffling his words. He had a penchant for trying to talk with his mouth full. "Plus, you're taking some time off, so is Francis; and Matthew takes online courses..."

Alfred spit the toothpaste into the sink.

"We almost have the full shebang here! Why not take advantage of this and party it up, we are a frat house after all!"

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers and closed his eyes in annoyance, but at the same time finding it difficult not to smile because of Alfred's infectious attitude.

Arthur's closed eyes made him unaware of Alfred approaching him, and he almost jumped out of his skin when Alfred pushed him onto the bed and jumped onto him, straddling his stomach.

"Come on man, we can pick up some hot chicks from the Theta Pi sorority house. I hear they're loose, in fact, they may even be loose enough to fuck you!" Alfred started bouncing up and down on the bed.

Arthur's face immediately heated up when he realized what kind of position they were in. If only Alfred wasn't so oblivious to certain things, he would have realized just how obscene their situation would look from an outsider looking in. Arthur was so scandalized that it took him a while to register and respond to the insult Alfred had thrown at him.

Arthur turned his face away from Alfred's increasingly infectious smile, "fuck you, Al."

"Hey, man, I'm only kidding you. If my sloppy seconds like you, then it can't be all that bad!"

"Yes Alfred, we all know you're such a catch," Arthur glowered at the man above him. "Now could you please get the fuck off of me!"

 

**† -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- †**

 

"Those chicks were just…"

"Wild?" Francis suggested.

"Silly?" Matthew shrugged.

"They were all fucking idiots," Arthur said. He was always the one to lay it all out on the table like it was, and when he did, everyone usually agreed with him. "And the fact that Alfred wasn't even interested speaks volumes…"

Alfred sighed, completely ignoring Arthur's snide comment, and laid his head back on the main room's couch. He creaked his eyes open just enough to look around at everyone, "so Theta Pi was a total bust…"

"I told you Beta Chi would have been a better idea," Francis smiled. "The classy looking, uptight type are always the wildest in bed. Look at Arthur!"

Everyone laughed out loud, even Matthew who normally chose to be the neutral party.

"I've seen you dancing, my friend, and it is certainly not the dancing of an English gentleman."

Alfred finally took his cue to join in on the weekly 'laugh at Arthur about his drunk dance moves Friday's.' "You dance like some Latin chick, dude."

Matthew continued laughing behind his beer, but otherwise chose not to join in on the heckling.

"Oh my god, Alfred, do you really have the right to be laughing at me?" Arthur put on a snide grin, "I'm not the one who gave another guy a blow job to impress a girl."

Alfred's smile dropped, "hey, man, I only gave him a hand job!"

"Even so," Matthew said quietly. "why the hell did you admit to that so easily…"

No one heard him.

"Don't lie," Arthur chuckled. "I could smell the semen on your breath for days."

Francis let out a full body laugh at this, slapping his knee as hard as he could. Of course this story wouldn't sound obscene to him. Francis was, after all, the most flamboyantly pansexual being on the face of the Earth.

Francis' lack of negative reaction wasn't what bothered Arthur, though. It was the fact that Alfred began laughing with him, as expected, almost tipping his beer over on the couch in the process. Arthur was peeved that he didn't get the reaction he wanted from him. It was irritating that the only thing that bothered Alfred was dishonesty.

"I've never given a dude a blowjob in my life, and if I did, it would have taken a lot of alc-" Alfred stopped talking when he looked up into Arthur's wide eyes.

Alfred actually had the decency to blush, and promptly directed his gaze away from Arthur.

Arthur himself closed his eyes and turned his head away as well, willing the blood rushing to his face to stop its course.

Francis saw this exchange, and had many times before, but as always chose to keep his mouth shut. Though he and Arthur had their differences, he wouldn't laugh about something so touchy. He was being so nice that he decided to break the awkward tension and start their conversation back up again, "so who would you boys rather fuck: Leonardo DiCaprio, or Morgan Freeman!?"

 

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"I swear to god, dude, you are the worst cook in the world," Alfred took a bite out of the biscuit in his hand experimentally. "Scratch that, worst cook in the whole universe," he spit the food out in his outstretched hand. "Try it."

"You're fucking disgusting, spit in the garbage not in your hand," Arthur shoved Alfred's approaching hand away with his foot.

"Come on, I didn't chew much so it's still edible. You've always been a fan of my sloppy seconds; look at this scone like you looked at Mary Hart."

The comment stung Arthur, but he acted unfazed. "Fuck off, Alfred."

Alfred only laughed at him in response.

Arthur clenched his right hand into a fist, and was a moment away from taking a swing when a loud crash caught his and everyone else's attention. Everyone looked to the door except Alfred, who was still laughing obnoxiously at his own comment.

"Shut up," Arthur hissed.

To his surprise, Alfred did quieten. He dropped the handful of chewed up food into the garbage and walked up to the front window, looking out over the front door to for the source of the loud banging.

"There's no one there," Alfred squinted down at the street. "No one on the street, either," he huffed, "it's awfully quiet considering class is almost over for the week."

As if in answer to that comment, another loud crash caused them all to jump.

"Is that Matthew making that much racket," Alfred questioned in a low whisper.

"I've been sitting here the whole time, jerk."

Alfred looked over his shoulder, then he shrugged, "then where the hell is all that sound coming from?"

"Maybe someone's trying to pull a prank on us," Arthur finally lost interest. "It wouldn't be the first time someone pulled this kind of shit."

Alfred scratched his chin as he pondered the idea, "well, yeah, that's possible. I just find the way they're playing this out is a little weird, wouldn't you agree?"

Francis finally nodded in agreement, "it's weird, but weirder things have happened to us in here."

This time another bang rang through the house, but it wasn't coming from outside anymore. The sound was coming from somewhere inside the house.

"For Christ's sake," Arthur slammed his bottle on the table. "You try to take a break in this neighbourhood but someone always wants to fuck around." He stood up and brushed the crumbs off of his pants, "Why don't you guys come with me so we can find out who the hell's up there this time?"

"It doesn't sound like it's coming from upstairs, actually," Matthew spoke, but his voice was drowned out by Alfred and Francis agreeing with Arthur.

As they began trudging toward the stairs Francis turned around to face Matthew, "hold down the fort, Matt, just in case someone tries to come in from the front."

Matthew, pleased that someone actually realized he was still in the room, nodded his head in agreement despite being wary of where he was sitting.

Before Matthew could utter another word, though, they were completely out of sight.

 

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"It doesn't look like there's anyone up here, Arthur," Alfred said, rummaging through a blank pile of papers. "It looks exactly the same as when we left it."

"Hm," Arthur hummed under his breath, staring out of the window in his bedroom, eyebrows creased.

Francis had long since left to check the attic portion of the house. They could still hear him cursing as he tried to get the ladder to come down.

The silence grew heavy as Alfred pretended like he was busy looking through papers. Arthur himself looked like he wasn't having much luck becoming enthralled with the dusty windows in his bedroom.

Alfred was the first to speak up, as always. "You know, Arthur, someday we need to talk about what happened last month…"

Arthur was silent for a moment, eyes not leaving the window in front of him. "I know."

"So if you know, why do you keep shushing me when I try to bring it up with you? This is something we need to address, Arthur." Alfred felt his voice rising despite his normally calm demeanor. "No matter how drunk two guys get, they can still tell the difference between the body of a man and the body of a woman."

Arthur didn't answer him, but his eyes were no longer focused on the window. Instead he was favoring his hands with a look Alfred could only describe as disappointment.

"I wish you would just talk to me, man. If something's bothering you, you need to spit it out so I can do my best to help."

Arthur finally looked up from his hands, "help me with what, exactly? Do you think there's something wrong with me?"

"Help you come to terms with your feelings."

Despite Arthur's heavily pounding heart, he clenched his fists into two tight balls by his side and stood up, squaring his shoulders. "I wasn't the only who initiated that little act, Alfred, don't forget that. Stop trying to make me the offender here."

Alfred frowned heavily, "don't try to peg this on me, you fucking handsy pervert."

"I wasn't trying to put the blame on you, Alfred; I was trying to say that it wasn't just my fault this happened!"

"Hey, fuck you man, do you take me for some kind of faggot? How was I supposed to react to someone feeling me up in the god damn hallway, in the middle of the night, no less?"

"That's really charming, Al, using a derogatory word like th-"

"Boys," Francis peeked around the corner, "there's no one up there, hasn't been for a long while." He looked bothered, but it clearly wasn't because of what went on in the attic. "Rather than get into a physical altercation like you always do, you could always come and talk to me."

"Shut up, Francis."

"I'm serious."

"We don't need your fucking med-"

A booming scream assaulted the boys ears, but it wasn't the normal scream of a successful prank; it was a scream of terror.

"Matthew," Arthur's eyes widened when he realized that they had left Matthew downstairs all alone. They were so caught up in their own arguments, they failed to watch the time or listen for anything strange coming from downstairs.

Francis was the first to get downstairs, running down the hall and taking the wooden steps three at a time in a frantic pace. Behind him, Alfred and Arthur called out Matthew's name.

Without even looking at each other, all three of them knew that there was something wrong.

Francis came to an abrupt halt at the foot of the stairs, causing Alfred and Arthur to hit into him.

Alfred and Arthur looked over Francis' shoulder in unison, and made the same shocked sound at what they saw.

Matthew was sprawled on the ground, hands pressing up into the chest of one of their new pledges. This wasn't a friendly gesture though, if the look on Matthew's face said anything about it. Matthew was using all of his power to keep the stocky man off of him. "Someone, please, get this guy off of me," Matthew's voice was straining, and his arms were shaking from the weight above him.

At first none of them could understand why Matthew was so terrified of the pledge on top of him, as Matthew was always a person who could fend for his own when the time came. It was only when the sound of teeth clacking and snapping caught their attention did they realize that this was more than just a prank.

There was something severely wrong with the pledge.

Francis finally moved, and with a look of resignation on his face, grabbed the back of the pledges jackets and tried to tear him off of Matthew. Arthur and Alfred, even Francis himself, looked dumbfounded when the pledge didn't budge from where he hovered over Matthew. Francis leaned into it and tugged even harder, but this time only managing to rip the pledges varsity jacket.

"Please," Matthew choked out; his shaking arms were obviously very close to giving out under the weight of the pledge.

"Boys, don't just stand there, help me!" Francis glared at Arthur and Alfred, who just stood at the foot of the stairs staring at the mess in front of them like curious children.

They both finally reacted when their names were called and jumped into action, joining Francis in pulling the pledge off of Matthew. Alfred and Arthur both grabbed an arm, and Francis pulled the pledge by the collar of his shirt.

With one strong pull they finally got the larger man off of Matthew and onto the floor. The pledge was sprawled on his back and being held by both Arthur and Alfred by either arm, and was clearly defenseless, but despite this he continued to fight. In this light, they could all see that there was something more than drunkenness wrong with the pledge. He continued to snap at the thin air with his feet pushing at the floor for purchase.

Matthew finally got up from where he was sprawled on the floor, looking down at all of them with what seemed to be annoyance. "I tried to tell you guys that the sound wasn't coming from upstairs, but you didn't listen to me."

"Sorry, Matthew," Francis said, patting him on the shoulder. "If it's any consolation, I probably couldn't have kept him off of me."

"He is quite the big bugger," Arthur watched the pledge closely. "He made me nervous right from the start, actually."

"This isn't normal, though, guys!" Alfred spoke up, "I think we're forgetting that this guy was just trying to eat Matthew's face."

"Should we call the cops, maybe? Tell them to send over a paramedic. Maybe this guy's on that new drug… Bath salts, is it?"

"I don't know," Francis reached out and pressed the back of his hand the pledges forehead. "Wow, he's freezing."

Arthur cocked his head to the side, "he's not running a fever?"

Francis shook his head, "that's really weird." Francis reached out yet again, but this time put a hand on the pulse point on the pledges throat.

The silence became heavy, they all watched Francis expectantly.

"…H…He," Francis pulled his hand away, then quickly put it back again to double-check what he felt. "He has no pulse."

They all looked at the still thrashing pledge, then up at Francis incredulously.

"Don't fuck around, Francis."

"I'm not joking, Arthur, check his pulse…"

Arthur put his hand on the inside of the man's wrist instead, waiting patiently for the familiar deep throbbing of an artery.

Nothing.

"What the hell," Arthur pulled his hand back as if he was burned, unthinkingly letting his hold go of the pledge. The pledge jumped up without hesitation and throttled Arthur to the ground with a heavy thud. Arthur tried to choke something out to everyone but he was cut off by a pair of strong hands wrapping around his throat.

In just two seconds he felt the edges of his vision beginning to blur. For someone without a pulse, the pledge was uncomfortable powerful.

Arthur reached up weakly, trying to get the pledge's fingers to ease up on his throat. However, his hands were too weak from the strangling to manage any kind of power.

"Arthur," Arthur could vaguely hear Alfred's voice calling out to him. "Jesus Christ."

"I'll try to pry his fingers off…"

"That's not going to stop him fast enough, he's fucking turning blue already!"

Even the sound was becoming distorted now from his choking, "Al…do… craz…urder!"

Despite Arthur beginning to go into a lethargic state from being choked so hard, he could still hear the familiar tinny sound the drawers made when a knife was being pulled out. And only seconds later, he felt something warm dripping onto his face, and felt the pressure around his throat lessening.

He sucked in a deep breath of air, and felt his throat burn painfully.

Slowly his vision began filtering back in, and the cold silence in the room returned rather than the ringing in his ears from the blood rushing from his head.

"Alfred," Francis' voice was panicked. "Alfred, what have you done?"

Arthur felt a hand grip his upper arm and drag him to his feet, where he could finally see exactly what Alfred had done to cause such panic from Francis.

The pledge lay on the ground, the back of his neck a mutilated mess, surrounded in a pool of his own blood. Alfred had killed the pledge.

Arthur reached a hand up to his face slowly, fingers slipping in the warm liquid that he had felt falling onto his face earlier. Except now Arthur knew that it wasn't just any warm liquid, but the blood of a murdered man.

"Oh god," Arthur leaned over. "I think I'm going to be sick."

Alfred, as realization began to dawn on him, began trying to come up with reasons as to why he had done what he had. "There was nothing else we could do, Arthur, if I hadn't done that he would have killed you!"

Matthew shook his head in disbelief.

"Guys, come on, he didn't even have a pulse. There was something wrong with him, it was self-defence!"

"Mon dieu," Francis spoke in a low voice. "We couldn't completely know that he had no pulse, it could have just been extremely weak from some sort of drug he used…" Francis kept his eyes trained on the dead body, then favoured the weapon of choice in Alfred's hand; a Sharp fileting blade that Francis used when he cooked for the house. "Give me the knife."

"I'm not going to hurt you g-"

"I know that, Alfred, I'm going to disinfect it and then I'm going to hide it where no one will find it." Francis said this clear as day, no hesitation.

Alfred realized what Francis was suggesting, and shakily handed over the knife. He was finally beginning to go into a dazed shock. It only made sense, considering his day had gone from sluggishly roaming around the house in his pajama pants, to murdering a man in cold blood.

"Now boys," Francis spoke in a low and conversational whisper. "I'm going to need all of your cooperation on this. We need to come up with a coordinated story, we need to hide the body properly, and we need to discard all possible evidence."

Arthur finally looked up from where he sat; scrubbing at the blood on his face with the palms of his hands. "We're going to hide a body?"

"What else are we supposed to do with it?"

"Bring him to his parents, maybe? Not leave him buried in the middle of nowhere like some animal! We need to tell someone, you guys!"

"Alfred will go to jail Arthur, and we'll be charged as an accessory!"

"I ca-"

"Don't tell me you can't, Arthur, the blood all over your face will be enough evidence for the police. And don't be so cruel, Alfred just saved your life and you're going to abandon him in his time of need?"

Arthur's eyes widened as he brought his hands up to his face again, fingers trailing through the now dried blood. He couldn't get it all. "It's not my fault, though, I didn't want that."

Alfred sat down on the couch with his head cradled in his hands, breath coming in short bursts before he finally began speaking to no one in particular. "Jesus, Jesus, I just killed someone."

"Relax, Alfred," Matthew put a gentle hand on his step-brother's back, who cringed at the touch. He seemed to be the only one keeping his head in the situation even though he was the one who had been left alone to deal with the pledge in the first place. "It was self-defence, I can vouch for you."

Alfred looked up at Matthew with red rimmed eyes, "could it be considered that?"

"I promise that you could plead self-defence, Al," Matthew chuckled humourlessly. "I'm your resident law student, I know this stuff! I mean, that guy did attack the both of us with full intent to kill, it's kind of common sense..."

The house itself seemed to breathe a sigh of relief at Matthew's reassuring words.

"But he killed him," Arthur said.

"I know, and that will probably make the case a little harder as far as reasonable force goes, but we can all fight it no problem," Matthew looked around the room. "You guys would do that for Alfred, right?"

Francis sighed in agreement, and Arthur mumbled his consent under his breath.

"So, let's call the cops, and we can work this o-"

The same moment Matthew stood up from his seat to retrieve his phone, the front door of the house crashed down with a loud, cracking snap, shaking the houses frame with the force.

It certainly wasn't just a lone pledge anymore; it was a group of people. The only thing reminiscent of the pledge and them was the fact that they all stood there with the same vacant look that the young pledge had on his face, and their intent seemed no different as they began piling into the house.

Arthur looked at Alfred, who still seemed too out of it to move, and threw his arm around his neck. "Let's get the fuck out of here."

 

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"God damn it, I should have known not to close it," Francis reached up for the string to pull down the ladder to the attic, but to no avail. They had always had problems opening up the attic, and for that reason most of them rarely went up. "We should have had this fixed a long time ago."

"There's no time for complaining now," Matthew was the one to finally pull the ladder free. He jumped up and grabbed the string, putting all of his weight into it to get it down.

Without another word spoken both Matthew and Francis climbed the ladder, reaching down to grab Alfred from Arthur. "Quickly," Francis said. "They're coming."

Arthur pulled Alfred's arm from around his shoulders and leaned him into Matthew and Francis' awaiting hands. They both grabbed him by an arm, but were finding it difficult to pull him up. Though Alfred looked thin and lithe, he was a completely solid weight, and as a result was extremely heavy. It also didn't help that Alfred was swimming in and out of a lethargic state after he had killed the pledge.

"Damn it, Alfred, wake up!" Arthur pushed up at Alfred's rear, trying to boost him up into the attic. Even with his help, however, they couldn't get Alfred into the attic.

"You lazy ass," Arthur shouted over the steadily approaching footsteps. "That pledge was trying to kill me and you saved me, you had no choice, he would have killed all of us if you hadn't done what you had!" It was true, Arthur's words, that pledge had almost succeeded in killing him before Alfred had mutilated his throat.

It was also clear to Arthur that the people running down the hall had the same intent as the pledge and that they had the same thing wrong with them. He didn't want to be the one standing in the middle of the hall when they finally reached them.

This must have gotten through to Alfred in some way, as his legs started kicked out for purchase on the ladder, and with Matthew and Francis' help, he got himself into the attic.

The only problem was, Arthur had to get himself up the ladder and into the attic, and the people from before were already running down the hall at him. He could almost feel their breath on the back of his neck.

Everyone reached their hand down for Arthur at the same time, and he jumped to grab them, completely ignoring the ladder because he had no time to climb it properly. He needed to rely fully on his friends.

"Hurry up!"

This was the last thing Arthur said before one of them grabbed his leg and started pulling; followed by another two grabbing the hem of his pants and yanking with obscene force.

"Pull harder," Alfred was leaning into it, his face straining desperately as he and the others tried to wrangle him out of his tight situation.

Luckily for all of them, with that last final pull, they dragged Arthur up – minus one of his pant legs – into the attic; followed by a loud crashing as they pulled the attic's ladder back into place.

They all sat there with their back to wall, breathing in and out heavily as the moans from under them filled the air. None of them spoke, except for Francis, who had his head turned toward the window.

"For some reason I don't think we're the only people having this problem, boys."


	6. Refuge

The small cabin of the cavalier filled with Feliciano's screams of terror, Ludwig shouting out commands at the car, and Kiku's attempt at calming words – which turned out to be all for naught.

They were currently in the worst possible situation either one of them could have imagined. Their car was currently in a severe decline; the speed was slowing considerably, the engine was sputtering abnormally, and smoke was beginning to billow out from under the hood. The car, however, was the least of their problems. It turned out the city was completely overrun, it wasn't just the hospital. An abundance of infected people straggled aimlessly through the streets, and as soon as their car approached, all eyes were on them.

Their drive through the first hurdle of infected was messy, to say the least. And it is possible that driving through such a ragged terrain of fallen bodies caused some of the problems with the cavalier, or at the very least, amplified them. The car began sputtering and stalling at the most inopportune moment possible: just as they were about to drive into another hurdle.

Ludwig pressed the gas pedal to the floor, gritted his teeth, and hoped for the best. Unfortunately, hoping and praying wasn't enough to help their situation.

They got to the very edge of the hurdle when the car hit a large bump, and travelling at such an extreme speed, the car got more air than a car should ever see. Due to it being so high in the air, when a group of the infected chose to charge at the car; it rolled.

The car rolled and rolled, down a small slope, through a buildup of mowed grass, and eventually coming to a rocking halt in a small, shallow pond. The car had rolled at least six times; the plate glass was broken, and the car was no longer salvageable. In a way, though, the car rolling was a good thing for the group, as it rolled a good deal away from the infected people currently trying to attack them.

Ludwig was the first one to react, opening his eyes and coughing out a mouthful of water. It took him a moment to gain his bearings enough to ask the others if they were OK. "Kiku, Feliciano?" For one dreadful moment, with silence filling the cabin of the car, Ludwig believed that they had all died from the accident. Then two simultaneous sputters made his frantically beating heart slow, if only a little.

Ludwig looked over at Kiku first, who looked fine despite the slim stream of blood making its way down his face, caking his left eye together. At the worst, Kiku probably had a minor concussion from the impact.

"Feliciano," Ludwig asked, craning his neck to check on the small Italian, "are you alright back there?"

A small mumble rose from the backseat, then a loud groan followed, "oh, I think I hit my head too hard."

Ludwig, though he was pleased that Feliciano was alright, was slightly worried about both of them having concussions. He hoped that it would not handicap their journey, because they clearly had a long way to go.

Feliciano was the first one to unbuckle himself – to Ludwig's surprise – and squirm out of the broken vehicle despite his head injury. When he stood up, however, he ended up falling down to the ground with a loud huff. "I'm so dizzy."

"Great," Ludwig thought. "It's worse than what I imagined." Ludwig grasped the buckle currently securing him to the seat and tugged, but to no avail. The seat belt was jammed; the metal was completely mangled inside the hard plastic holster, and it was clear by Kiku's struggling that he was in the same position. Not sparing a second, Ludwig reached across himself and shoved his hand into Kiku's front pocket.

Kiku seemed taken aback at first, rearing back into his seat hard enough to rock the car again.

Inside Kiku's pocket Ludwig found the small knife he had used when they were trapped in the bar. Pleased with himself, he brought the knife up to the seatbelt and cut through it without another thought, causing him to land directly on his neck. He groaned at the awkward position he was in. But, despite the pain he felt in his neck, he immediately manoeuvered himself out of the tight cabin, and into the open field where Feliciano sat with his head cradled in his hands.

Before Ludwig could worry about him, he needed to get Kiku out of the vehicle.

Ludwig looked up to see the approaching group of infected people, who were steadily gaining ground on them. He didn't have a moment to waste fussing over Feliciano's head wound, that would have to wait until they found a safe place to take refuge. Ludwig ran around the car and kneeled down beside Kiku, who seemed to be in somewhat better condition than Feliciano was.

"Do you think you will be able to run?" Ludwig didn't waste time trying to comfort him; there was no place for that anymore.

"Yes, I didn't hit my head very hard, and my legs weren't injured in the crash."

"Good," Ludwig said as he sawed through the seat belt around Kiku's chest. "As long as we can all run reasonably fast, we probably have a fighting chance."

Kiku didn't respond, or rather, didn't have time to respond as the seatbelt finally let go, causing him to fall flat on his face with a loud grunt.

"Sorry," said Ludwig, skipping out on asking if Kiku was OK. He grabbed him by the shoulder, pulled him free of the cabin, and stood up to look at the progress of the infected.

They were much closer than Ludwig had anticipated.

Ludwig ran around the car, grabbed Feliciano by the shoulders and shook him. "Feliciano, we have to run, there is no time for making a fuss out of a head injury."

Feliciano groaned but otherwise took to his feet quickly. He was beginning to brush the grass off of his pants, but when Ludwig turned his head toward the oncoming crowd, he began running faster than both he and Kiku.

There was no time for lolly-gagging.

 

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"I- I don't think I," Feliciano stopped momentarily and took in a large heaving breath, "I can run any more."

"You need to, Feliciano," Ludwig said through deep breaths. "Kiku said if we keep running we will eventually come to the other side of town."

Kiku – who seemed in as bad shape as Feliciano – hummed his agreement through his nose, "there is an old hotel up ahead, I'm sure it is safe."

"Will we be there soon, Kiku?" Feliciano huffed, "because I don't think I can last much longer."

"Yes, Feliciano," Kiku said. "Soon we will be able to see the hotel."

Ludwig was happy that they would soon be away from the oncoming crowd, but one thing still nagged at him. When he and Kiku were being pursued when they left the bar, eventually the infected people following them gave up on them completely. The people behind them now were clearly not planning on giving up any time soon, in fact, they seemed to be gaining speed. Even now, in the dark, Ludwig could still make out their inky shapes marring the view of the darkened green field.

They just had a few more paces to go, then, for the first time since the outbreak happened, they would be able to relax.

 

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"It's right up ahead," Kiku shouted, breaths now coming in short bursts. "Just a little farther and we're there." He had finally stopped taking the calm initiative when he realized they had almost reached salvation, he was just as excited as they were to finally be safe.

Feliciano tried to cry out triumphantly, but only managed a sad, weary gasping sound. They were all on the end of their rope, but if they were quiet and quick, they would be able to climb back up the proverbial rope, and into safety.

Without words Ludwig began pushing it at the last second, forcing himself to run even faster despite having reached his limit long ago. To his surprise, Kiku and Feliciano followed his lead. They were all just as eager as he was to reach a safe haven after so much running and panic.

When they finally reached the road, running through thick shrubs, they were pleased to see that not many of the infected people remained on the road, and the few that did remain wandered aimlessly away. When they came to the Hotel they realized that there was a tall chain link fence surrounding it, but were so nervous that they did not want to check around for a hole in the fence. They all took turns climbing over the chain link fence, and dropping onto the other side. Ludwig was the first to climb over the side – considering he was the biggest – and offered to help them over.

Kiku followed his lead, climbing steadily upward and throwing his leg carefully over the top, so as not to get his pants caught on any of the exposed rungs. Feliciano was the next, and to all of their surprise, he climbed like a monkey, and landed gracefully on the ground on the other side. Feliciano continued to amaze Kiku and Ludwig around every turn.

Feliciano looked at all their questioning faces, "before my brother went into the seminary, we used to climb over our neighbour's fence and swim in his pool."

Ludwig and Kiku both chuckled at this, but both were surprised by the fact that Feliciano's brother was a priest.

"You're brother's a priest, Feliciano?" Ludwig asked, despite himself.

Feliciano smiled sadly, "no, he wasn't even halfway through his learning. But he did want to be a priest, very badly."

Kiku, noticing that Ludwig was going to ask another question, broke the conversation before it escalated into something they didn't need. "I know we're safe now, but we shouldn't wait around outside for something to happen. If those things from the road see us, I don't think this fence will be enough to keep them away."

Ludwig nodded his head in agreement, "yes, you're right." Ludwig turned to face Feliciano, "I'm sorry for asking such personal questions, I was just…"

"Curious," Feliciano smiled as he began walking, "I know, it's alright." To Ludwig's surprise, Feliciano began laughing, "you should see people's faces when I told them Lovino was in the seminary, priceless."

Kiku determined that Feliciano was no longer on the verge of breaking down, and as he traced the building for a spot to break in, he began asking Feliciano questions to lighten the mood. "Why were they surprised?"

"You guys weren't that surprised because you haven't ever met Lovino," Feliciano chuckled. "Even my relatives were shocked when Lovino made the decision."

Ludwig prompted for Feliciano to go on, interested in his story.

"Lovino has the worst potty mouth I've ever seen," Feliciano said. "He curses, he takes the lord's name in vain, he's extremely rude, he's demanding," Feliciano shook his head. "My brother is the exact opposite of what you would expect from a priest."

Ludwig and Kiku were both surprised that Feliciano's brother was the polar opposite of him, and yet Feliciano seemed to adore him despite this.

"Your brother sounds like he could be a pain," Ludwig cringed at his choice of words immediately after their left his mouth, feeling bad that he was picking on Feliciano's brother who was probably no longer alive.

Feliciano smiled even brighter, despite Ludwig's words, "but all of those things are what made me love my big brother even more." Feliciano looked up at Ludwig and smiled, "you love your big brother despite his faults, right?"

"Of course," Ludwig answered, not a hint of hesitation in his voice. "And I am determined to find him." Even though Ludwig knew that most of his searching would be all for naught in the destroyed city, he was going to search for his brother no matter what. Whether he would have to do it alone or not, he didn't care. Ludwig knew that Feliciano felt the same way about his brother, but at the same time, had a more realistic mind set than Ludwig himself.

"Here," Kiku said, breaking the silent exchange between Ludwig and Feliciano. They both turned in unison to see Kiku pulling a large board free from one of the windows with a loud grunt. Underneath the board was a large window, in good shape despite how old the building was.

"We couldn't have found one broken window," Ludwig sighed. "Maybe if we search on the other side of the building?"

Kiku shook his head, "it's no use; we could be scaling this place until morning, and who's to know if those things won't show up."

Ludwig nodded his head, "alright, but we need to make as little noise as possible when breaking the window. Those things are probably nearby now that they know where we are."

Kiku, completely disregarding everything he said, grabbed the small knife that he had used to cut the two of them free, and rammed the butt of the knife into the window. The glass snapped and cracked, but did not fully break into shards that would no doubt have made too much noise. Kiku raised his hands to indicate his work, "now we just need to push the glass out carefully."

Ludwig pressed the palms of his hands into the glass, and watched carefully as it fell into the long since abandoned hotel. The sound of the glass shattering would be loud enough to alert any resident inside – if there were any – but it wasn't loud enough to resonate outside of the building. "Good work, Kiku," Ludwig said, nodding his head in acknowledgement toward Kiku.

Feliciano, who had otherwise remained silent during the whole ordeal, was the first to step through the broken window. He hadn't even asked if it was safe or not, he just put one leg in, ducked his head, and stepped into the dark hotel.

"It's awfully dark in he-"

Feliciano screamed, a loud, gut-wrenching shout that sent Ludwig and Kiku jumping through the window without even considering the jagged pieces of glass still encompassing the frame. When they got inside, and were at a close enough range to see Feliciano, they realized someone had him in a tight choke hold. Under the assumption that it was one of the infected, and without thinking clearly, Kiku stabbed the person holding Feliciano. He missed, though, and stabbed the person in the shoulder instead of in the chest where he had initially planned to impale him.

What warned them that it was not an infected person was the shout, and wet gurgling, that followed the stabbing. The man holding Feliciano let go of him immediately, and fell onto his backside with a heavy thud.

It was very clear that he was not an infected person.

"Oh my God," Kiku, finally having lost his calm, dropped down beside the man he had stabbed. "I'm so sorry," Kiku said to the sputtering man. "You were choking him, and I thought you were one of them…"

The dark haired man managed a smile, "I thought you were one of them, too." The man pressed a hand to the wound on his shoulder, which was not fatal, but could become infected if not treated properly. "I should have known you weren't one of them, you're not the first set of people to come here, anyways."

Ludwig's eyes widened, "there are other people here?" Ludwig knew it was unlikely, but he wanted to believe – if only for a moment – that his brother could still be alive. Gilbert did always have a great sense of self-preservation, after all.

"Yes, I didn't get to see them up close, but I still have a good idea," the man cringed when Kiku ripped a piece of his white sweater and held it tight to the gaping wound in his shoulder.

"What did they look like?"

"I knew one of them, the pretentious one with the dark brown hair, his name is Roderich, he was with a young pretty girl with blonde hair. I'm certain she's the one he used to tell me about all the time." The man seemed to space out and reminisce for a moment, before snapping out of it when Kiku pressed the fabric down harder.

Ludwig felt his heart stutter at this; of course his brother would not have made it. The odds of him having lived in a city he knew nothing about were slim to nothing – closer to the nothing side.

"Then there was a really loud-mouthed guy, with crazy bleached hair, who followed them in," the man said in annoyance. "He tried to kick one of my cats when he went upstairs because he said he hated them." The dark-haired man frowned, "he also had the worst arrogant, nasally voice I've ever heard. I didn't like him, so I didn't come out of my room to greet them."

Ludwig's eyes shot open, and without even bothering to listen to the rest of the man's ranting, he began shouting his brother's name at the top of his lungs. "Gilbert," Ludwig felt his heart pump faster in his chest.

"Gilbert, are you in here?"

"Ludwig, are you insane?" Kiku spat when he looked up from where he was crouched over the dark haired man.

For a long moment no sound reached them, the place seemed deserted. The man beside them said something about them probably having already moved on.

Then Gilbert could hear it, the sound of old wood creaking under someone's feet. The person in question was bounding down the stairs; it made Ludwig's heart lurch up into his throat in both fear and excitement. He couldn't be sure that it was his brother, as the infected people were everywhere, but the description the dark-haired man gave him was too close to his brother. Ludwig waited in anticipation as each step grew closer and closer to their level.

When they stopped, Ludwig opened his mouth, trying to say something, but instead only choked out in surprise.

"Ludwig," the voice at the end of stairs asked incredulously. "Ludwig, is that really you?"

 

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It took Gilbert a long time to let his younger brother out of his embrace. His younger brother that he was absolutely certain he would never see again. It took the man on the ground – who Roderich had called Heracles – sputtering and coughing to remind him that there was something wrong.

He looked down at the ground to see a young Japanese man crouched over him, holding a piece of white cloth over a bad wound on his shoulder. "What happened to him," Gilbert asked, favouring the Japanese man and the Brunette man behind Ludwig with a harsh, demanding glare.

"It's not their fault," Heracles spoke from on the ground. "I grabbed the small brunette one thinking that he was one of those infected people."

Gilbert looked up at Ludwig for him to acknowledge what Heracles said, and was answered with a short nod.

Ludwig stepped away from his brother and held out his arms to the small group he had made on his way, "the small brunette is Feliciano; he came here for a vacation from Italy with his older brother. Kiku and I found him in the middle of the highway."

Gilbert nodded his head at the Italian, "Feliciano."

Feliciano, still wary of Gilbert, chanced flashing the man a small, cautious smile.

Ludwig indicated the Japanese man on the ground that was still frantically asking Heracles questions, and holding the fabric from his sweater to his wounded shoulder. "This is Honda Kiku, I met him at the bar I was waiting for you at. The outbreak happened while we were in there, Kiku and I helped each other escape."

Kiku didn't seem to hear him, or rather chose not to, as he tended to the wound on Heracles' shoulder with the now soaked piece of cloth from his sweatshirt. Gilbert realized that it was probably Kiku that had stabbed the man, and chose not to take his ignorance as an insult.

Ludwig looked at Feliciano, who seemed to be the only one paying attention anymore, "this is my brother, Gilbert."

Feliciano's eyes lit up when he realized the Gilbert wasn't just somebody Ludwig happened to know, it was his older brother. The one Feliciano had wanted to help Ludwig find. He was happy for Ludwig, and continued to smile, but at the same time felt extremely jealous that he had found his older brother so easily. Ludwig had found his big brother, alive and well, and Feliciano would probably never find his brother, and even if Feliciano did find him, he would probably be dead, or one of the infected. However, despite his jealously, Feliciano ran over to Gilbert and flung himself at the man who so much resembled Ludwig.

Gilbert seemed taken aback at first, but smiled at the young Italian. He had heard that the Italian's were incredibly friendly, so much so that it would make a person who was not used to their culture uncomfortable. Gilbert hugged back, as best he could, and patted the young Italian man on the head. "Thank you for taking care of my little brother," he whispered. "He's a real baby, so he needs as much help as possible."

Feliciano laughed whole-heartedly at this, smiling at Ludwig who could only smile back at them, Ludwig couldn't find it in himself to react at his brother's usual jabs; he was just too happy to have found his brother in good health.

"I'm sorry to ruin the moment, you guys," Kiku spoke up from behind them all in an urgent tone, "but I really need to get this guy patched up, or I'm afraid he's going to bleed out."

Gilbert looked down at the dark skinned man, "I'm assuming you are Heracles." Gilbert sighed, "the homeless one with all the cats?"

Heracles smiled, "that's me."

Gilbert walked over to the scene and examined the wound, and even though he had no formal medical training, it didn't take a genius to realize the wound on his shoulder could become very bad if infected. And, with no medical supplies, or food for that matter, he would probably die.

"Is it bad," Feliciano asked, standing next to Gilbert and wringing his hands.

"No, he will be fine if we treat the wound with care," Gilbert reached down – hands cradled under Heracles' back and legs – and lifted him off of the ground. "Come with me," Gilbert said, head craning toward the stairs. "There's still running water in here, Roderich and I checked it out."

"Thanks to me," Heracles said, still smiling despite the searing pain taking over the left side of his body.

 

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Roderich had gotten mad at Gilbert, at first, when he saw the number of other survivors now residing in the building with them. He did settle down, though, when he heard that Gilbert's brother, Ludwig, was among them. It made him relax, if only slightly, about how dangerous they could be. He was still wary about the other two with Ludwig, the Italian and the Japanese man, but they hadn't had a very dangerous air about them. And, all things considered, the both of them were panicking over whether Heracles would be OK or not.

That had to say something about them.

They were all standing over Heracles, who they had just put in the bed next to Elizaveta's. Heracles was still awake, but was beginning to drift in and out of consciousness. The bleeding had stopped, though, and now all that was left was the gaping wound, now caked over in dried blood.

"We need to get to the hospital," Roderich said. "The wound will get infected no matter how much we take care of it. Not to mention Elizaveta is going to need medication if she doesn't come out of her shock soon."

Everyone was surprised by Roderich speaking out loud about such a thing, right in front of Heracles, who was still awake.

"Maybe we should wait to dis-" Kiku began interjecting, but was cut short by Roderich telling him otherwise.

"He knows, just as well as any of us, that a wound like that will not heal itself," Roderich looked away from the gored shoulder. "Besides, there is no food to eat here, we will all eventually starve."

"There's water."

"Water will only go so far."

"There are a bunch of cats, if worse comes to wo-" of course it was Gilbert who began suggesting they eat the cats in the hotel.

"You're not eating my cats," Heracles said. "There's still some food in the fridges downstairs. I brought it all there."

"I thought you were homeless?" Feliciano asked, cutting to the chase.

Roderich rolled his eyes, "he owns a small fortune, he just doesn't like living under pressure. So he lives like a homeless man."

Ludwig shook his head incredulously at his brother, who responded with a shrug of his shoulders and mouthed the word, "Westerner's."

As everyone began getting louder and louder, arguing about how long the food would last, and where they could get drugs to cure an infection like gangrene or blood poisoning, Feliciano began feeling annoyed.

"The hospital is completely overrun; it's no use to even try getting in there. It's like a hive of bees." Feliciano bit out through clenched teeth, finally getting the groups attention.

"How would you know? I heard they found you curled up in the middle of the road somewhere, taking a siesta."

Ludwig's eyes widened incredulously, followed by his brothers, shocked at how incredibly rude Roderich was being.

"I left my brother to die in there, actually," Feliciano said calmly to Roderich. "He had a stroke, and severe double pneumonia, I had no choice."

Roderich was taken aback, "I'm sorry, I assumed…"

"You shouldn't assume things without knowing someone," Heracles spoke from on the bed, causing everyone to look down at him. "I think I'm a walking, talking example of someone who shouldn't be judged by their cover." Heracles coughed out a laugh.

"When I left him, the soldiers had already been taken down," Feliciano looked up through his bangs. "These were trained soldiers, and they had huge weapons and protection, and they were still taken down by the infected people. The place had been completely taken over, it didn't even look like a hospital on the inside anymore. The walls were no longer white."

Roderich looked down at his feet, but spoke despite himself, "someone must have lived, though."

Feliciano smiled sadly, "who knows, but if they did, I feel really sorry for them."

Everyone closed their eyes and became silent, no longer knowing what they could say about the situation.

Heracles raised his hand, as if asking permission to speak after he deemed the silence having gone on too long. "If soldiers fell in there," Heracles coughed. "Then couldn't we radio in and see if someone answers."

They all opened their eyes at this, favouring Heracles with a questioning look, as if they weren't really taking him seriously.

"We could be like Special Ops," Heracles laugh made Kiku smile. "If we're lucky, someone will answer, and then we can guide them out. Or at least help them."

"How could we guide them out of there?" Feliciano questioned.

"You're right, we can't necessarily guide them out, but we can help them when they finally get out of the hospital."

Everyone indicated for him to go on in unison.

"You all know how much of them are out there, I looked on the roof earlier today, it's a mad house out there." Heracles watched them all silently, "if we could find someone, and get them out, then they would need guidance to avoid everything. The roof is an excellent vantage point for us; we can see everything up there. With good binoculars, we could see right up to the front entrance of the hospital, and I just happen to have a great pair."

Everyone seemed less than convinced, especially Ludwig's group. After everything they had seen, they found it hard to believe the streets were even manoeuvrable, but they gave the man the microphone for at least a moment.

"They would probably have the upper hand, too, because they could collect weapons off of the soldiers. Along with that, they could bring us rations and medicine from the hospital."

"If we find survivors we aren't going to treat them like pack mules, Heracles," Roderich said through gritted teeth. "I highly doubt one person could even carry more than a single gun and some medicine."

"A pack sack," Heracles said. "With a pack sack they could carry pretty much everything we need."

"A pack sack is a good way to get yourself dragged down by one of those things, the less someone carries, the better," Ludwig said to him.

Heracles didn't lose his enthusiasm, though, as he continued on with his spiel, "it wouldn't hurt to try, right?"

"He's right," Feliciano said. "Even if they aren't willing to help us out when they escape, at least we'll know we helped save someone's life."

"Good," Heracles said, reaching under the covers. "I hope I didn't break my portable radio when I fell, because we're out of luck if I did." When he finally retrieved the small radio from his back pocket, he let out a triumphant huff. "I would have thought about using this earlier, but I had no idea there were soldiers in the hospital. I was just using it to listen to news broadcasts."

"What were the broadcasts saying," Ludwig asked. "Did they say anything about what this is?"

Heracles looked across the room at Ludwig, "don't you think that would have been the first thing I told you about?" Heracles lifted the radio toward them. "It just keeps repeating the same message, and it's not a comforting one." Heracles flipped the switch and the radio blatted out a monotone voice, repeating the same line over and over like Heracles had told them it would.

"This is a medical emergency; no persons are to leave their houses at this time. Lock your doors, lock your windows, and stay put. Do not leave your house, I repeat, do not leave your house in risk of infection."

Gilbert cringed, "wow, that's not very comforting."

"They didn't even say if help was on the way or not," Feliciano said.

"I don't think help is coming," Roderich said, as if he had come to that resolve a long time ago. "I think they wanted most of us to die from this, and if the soldiers in the hospital say anything about it, it hasn't gone all according to plan."

Heracles eyed Roderich in understanding, "I've been thinking the same way as you, Roderich."

"Do you think this is just happening in America?" Feliciano asked hopefully.

"I doubt it," Heracles said. "And if this is biological warfare, and not some sort of accident, then it is no doubt affecting the whole world."

Heracles held the radio back up to his mouth, changed the channels, and began speaking into it without even working through what he was going to say into the radio.

"This is Heracles Karpusi, I'm not a soldier but I am from the outside of the hospital. I'm looking for any survivors. I have a few survivors with me," Heracles looked around the room. "There are seven of us. We think we can help, if you are willing to help in return."

For a long while, all of them stood around Heracles, listening to static. Nothing was coming through.

"There has to be a dead soldier on every floor," Feliciano said. "If there was anyone alive, they would answer."

"We can't think that," Heracles said. "For all we know, they could be trapped somewhere."

"If that's the case, they're dead meat anyway," Gilbert said, taking a seat on the edge of Heracles' bed.

Heracles tried again, and they all waited again for another long ten minutes, with no answer at all.

"There's no one, Heracles," Roderich said. "Face it." Roderich walked around the room to Elizaveta's bed, holding a hand to her warm forehead. Seeming satisfied, he looked up at the group. "We need our sleep, it would be best for all of us to stay in the same room together. I will stay up to keep watch, then Gilbert will later on." Roderich looked over at Heracles with pity more than spite, "we can work on that ridiculous thing tomorrow."

"I'll leave it on overnight, just in case someone tries to make contact. I recorded my message, anyways."

Roderich seemed on the verge of saying something, but chose to keep his mouth shut in favor of the extremely exhausted looking group. "This is the biggest room, but there are only four beds."

Roderich looked around, "I'm going to be awake for the first part, so Gilbert?"

Gilbert looked up from where he was sitting, staring blankly at the buzzing radio. "Yes?"

"You will sleep next to Elizaveta, OK?" Roderich seemed to challenge him to make a comment with his glare.

Gilbert nodded his head, almost too tired to recognize Roderich's glare, "alright."

"The rest of you," Roderich said. "Sleep wherever you want to sleep and with whoever you want."

Feliciano and Ludwig were both about to get in the same bed, but were surprised to see Kiku climbing in beside Heracles. "To monitor his breathing," he stated simply.

Both Feliciano and Ludwig nodded their heads and slipped into their beds.

 

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It was Kiku that was first woken up by the radio in the middle of the night, and for a moment, almost completely disregarded the voice coming from the radio as nothing. Then, when the sleep haze started disappearing, he realized that someone was trying to communicate. He picked the radio up, turned the volume up to the highest rung, and watched as everyone in the room stirred awake. Even Gilbert, who had fallen fast asleep on watch, woke up with a jolt.

"-ope someone is still there, I know you called in a long time ago, but we were trapped."

"I knew it," Heracles said, and everyone hushed as him to be quiet.

"My name is Antonio Carriedo; I was trapped in the dispensary of the hospital with a patient,"the man sounded frightened, and they could all hear a loud banging noise coming from the other side of the radio.

"We escaped the dispensary and went into the surgical ward, but it's not as safe as we thought it would be," another loud crash rang from the radio. "The only good that came out of this is that I found some weapons, and of course this radio…" They could hear Antonio fussing in the background over his patient, asking him if he was feeling better.

Heracles finally took this moment to answer the man on the other side of the radio, "you said a patient, are you a doctor?"

It took a moment, but the man named Antonio finally answered from the other end, "no, but I am a registered nurse."

Roderich finally became interested at this, "please, ask him how to treat a patient that's gone into shock."

Heracles held a finger up to Roderich, "wait, Roderich, we must not put too much pressure on him."

"What is wrong with your patient?" Heracles wouldn't say it, but he was worried that the patient was very ill and would hold the nurse back.

"He has severe pneumonia," the man was almost whispering now, he sounded almost scared. "When the soldiers started killing everyone, not just the infected, I hid in a secretary's desk. When I came out, I got chased down by a bunch of the infected people, and by chance ended up in a room with a completely untouched patient. I was so happy." Antonio's voice went from frightened to happy as he began talking about his patient. "He's doing so well, I think he'll be able to walk properly soon."

Feliciano heard him talk about the patient having pneumonia, and immediately started thinking about his brother. His poor brother that probably died from a bullet to the head; but Feliciano was glad that Lovino would at least not have to face the new, cruel world. Lovino was never one for violence and death, after all.

"How old is your patient?" Heracles didn't want to put it to words, but if the patient was too old, maybe it would be best to euthanize him. Heracles was being completely honest with himself; they would all end up dying if they needed to carry around a sick old man. He needed to be realistic, but at the same time, he needed to not scare off the surviving nurse.

"My patient," Antonio said. "Oh, he's still a very young man, so he's getting better very quickly."Another crash rang out of the radio, this time causing Antonio to gasp – and whoever his patient was – to curse out loud.

The voice of the other man was what got Feliciano this time. The voice of the other man, the man who had cursed, sounded very familiar to him.

Without thinking, Feliciano grabbed the radio from Heracles hand and held it up to his mouth. "What is your patient's name?" He had all but screamed into the radio.

"My patient's name?" Antonio inquired, "why would yo-"They all listened closely as a scuffle seemed to ensue on the other side of the radio, followed by a completely different voice beginning to speak.

_"Feliciano?"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're finally off to a real start. Over the next few chapters the groups are going to get closer and closer, and all of them will be faced with some difficult decisions. So, don't leave their journey yet!
> 
> If you have any comments, questions, or suggestions, don't be afraid to shout 'em out to me!


	7. Baby Brother

“It’s not safe up here for the baby.” 

The young blonde man looked up at Berwald through his bangs, sizing him up cautiously, “I know, but it’s also not safe down there for a baby.” The small blonde man whispered something in the baby’s ear that caused it to giggle and snort, and the young man laughed in unison with it. He was clearly very good with children. “Help should be on the way soon,” he said. “We can go down if we hear sirens.”

“They should have come by now,” Berwald responded. This was Berwald’s idea of talkative. He rarely said anything unless he had to, and in this case, he felt like he had to. After everything Berwald had seen, and after everything he had been through, he knew help should have come a long time ago. A whole neighbourhood had been taken over, that usually warranted some attention from the local police. 

Tino didn’t respond to what Berwald was saying – whether he heard Berwald or not was to question – and chose to coddle the baby instead. He decided to go along with it, as soon enough the young boy would realize that they didn’t have any food or protection for the baby. In fact, the young man probably already knew, he just didn’t want to face it immediately. Berwald decided to wait patiently for the boy to come to his senses. However, as if the boy could hear his thoughts, he began to speak.

“There’s a supermarket closer to town,” he said quietly. “When I used to babysit Peter in the summer, the Kirkland’s would send me there to get his formula.” The boy looked up from where he cradled the baby in his arms, “help isn’t coming, is it?”

Berwald took a moment to collect himself, and finally urged his voice out through a small stutter, “no, I don’t think so.”

“How bad was it when you found me?” He didn’t look like he directly wanted the answer, but Berwald gave it to him anyway. It was no use trying to hide the gravity of their situation, because if he did, it would likely end up getting them both killed. 

“It was very bad,” Berwald said. “The whole neighbourhood surrounded my car. They were eating people”

The blonde boy hung his head low, “I know.” He trembled slightly at whatever memory had dredged itself up, “I was just hoping that maybe it was all in my head.” The boy hiked the baby up higher on his shoulder so he could free one of his hands, and was met with a shrill giggle, “my name is Tino.” He held out his free hand to Berwald, and smiled sheepishly, “thank you for helping me last night.”

“It’s fine,” Berwald grasped the boy’s small hand in his own. “My name is Berwald.”

“Berwald,” Tino said, as if tasting the name. “You worked in the paper mill, right?” 

“Yes.”

“You worked with my Da, then,” Tino said happily, but quickly recoiled on himself. “I’m glad at least someone else from my neighbourhood survived.” 

Berwald didn’t question the boy, but from the looks of it, his family hadn’t survived the incident in the neighbourhood. In an attempt to lift the atmosphere, Berwald forced his voice to work for him again. He stuttered slightly when he tried to start a non-business like conversation, but it worked for him nonetheless – he found he had an easy time talking to the other man. “Where are the baby’s parents?” Berwald assumed that Tino was not the brother of the baby by the way he had spoken about the Kirkland’s. 

Tino swallowed hard around a lump in his throat, and Berwald immediately felt bad about having asked the question. He couldn’t take it back, though, because he couldn’t find the voice to do so. He only managed to stutter breathlessly. 

“I had to kill them,” Tino’s eyes started to well up with tears, but they didn’t fall, they remained ever present under his eyelids. “They turned into one of those things,” Tino said. “I had no choice, they would have hurt Peter.” On instinct, Tino drew the baby closer to his chest. 

Berwald was shocked at how easily Tino had come out with that, because if it were him, he would have never been able to own up to it. It was good of Tino, though, because he had saved the baby’s life. Berwald couldn’t imagine the courage it would have taken to walk into that house, not to mention the strength to take down two fully grown adults. Though Tino looked small in stature, it was obvious that he was not to be underestimated. “I understand,” Berwald said, confused as to whether he should try to comfort Tino or not. 

Tino sniffed back his tears and brushed his arm over his eyes, and the tears disappeared as if they had not even been there to begin with, “but I got Peter out safely, and that’s all that matters right now.” Tino played with a small lock of the baby’s hair, “he’s going to start getting hungry soon.” Tino sighed, “and if he’s anything like what he was in the summer, he’ll start crying, and that will just put us in even more danger. So, I think it would be better if we took our chances now rather than later.”

Berwald hummed his agreement, it seemed that the boy was far more intelligent than he had perceived. He was thinking even farther ahead than what Berwald himself was. Tino seemed to be ready to go whenever, so he turned himself in the cramped space and jumped out of the tree house onto the soft grass beneath. He tested his ankle when he got to the bottom, and was pleased when it did little more than ache. An ache, he could deal with. 

Tino peeked his head over the edge next, looking both ways to see if any more of the bloodthirsty neighbours were coming down the road. 

“It’s fine, there’s none,” Berwald said in reassurance. 

Tino held the baby close to him and smiled at Berwald, causing the taller man at the bottom to look at him quizzically. “Thank you,” Tino said, “for all of this.” Tino got ready to hand the baby down into Berwald waiting arms, “if it weren’t for you, I probably would have died up there, and Peter would have too.”

Berwald could only hum out a quick, ‘no problem,’ under his breath. 

Tino leaned over the edge of the tree house and put Peter in Berwald’s arms, and to both of their surprise, the previously quiet baby began to coo and grab at Berwald’s nose. Tino laughed at this, and remarked that Peter liked him. Berwald couldn’t help but flush at this, and made it priority to hold the baby away from his face. He liked children, but at the same time, was scared of their fragility. 

“I’m coming down,” Tino said, backing out of the tree house slowly. He stepped onto the ladder and used the bottom of the tree house to bring himself down. Even for someone as small as him, the ladder was not big enough for his feet. 

When Tino landed on the ground next to Berwald, he held his hands out again for the baby, “here.”

Berwald handed Tino the baby and immediately began walking down the street toward the small corner supermarket. Even though he was fairly new to the place, he still knew where most of the important places were. 

 

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After walking in completely silence for some time, Tino started talking to Berwald again. It always caught Berwald off guard when the young boy initiated conversation with him, because most people vied away from that. Berwald was under the assumption that in the situation they were in, any companionship would be good companionship, and Berwald was no exception to this rule in Tino’s book. 

“You know…” Tino stopped for a moment, trying to remember something, “Berwald, you don’t have to do this for us.” Berwald fixed him with a look, that Tino seemed to think was threatening, as he hurried for his explanation. “I mean, you saved us already, and I have a baby with me,” Tino looked down at his feet. “We’re just going to be a hindrance to you, in the end.”

“I don’t think so,” was all Berwald said in response to Tino’s concern. 

“Well, thank you, anyway,” Tino bowed his head in thanks. “You really are a life-saver.” 

Berwald didn’t respond to this, and only continued on with his trek. They were almost to the super market, and there they could find food for the baby; and food for themselves too. Berwald, and Tino himself, almost tripped over themselves when they came to the street for the frat house. 

“Arthur,” the small baby cooed out of nowhere, clear as day. “Arthur, Arthur, Arthur!” The baby began to giggle, kicking his little feet up into the air in excitement.

“Arthur?” Berwald questioned, looking down the street for signs of a person that the child could have spotted.

Tino’s brow furrowed as he looked down at the ecstatic baby, “yeah.” He shushed the baby and tickled his stomach in an attempt to get him to quiet down. “That’s the name of his older brother; he lives in a frat house somewhere along here.” Tino tickled the baby again, “you can already speak, what a big boy!”

Berwald looked around cautiously, and marked the broken doors, and blood speckling the street. Clearly this street was no exception to whatever kind of hellish pandemic had broken loose. Even though there was no one on the street, Berwald knew that it would not be safe to take their chances with a small baby. Even the street they were on was not a safe one. Not to mention they didn’t have any weapons to protect themselves with. Berwald cursed himself for not thinking of that before they left, but if they got to the super market, there were bound to be things they could use in there.

They began walking past the street, but as soon as they were on the other side, the baby started to react negatively. 

“Arthur,” the baby began saying in a voice that was dangerously close to whimpering. He was getting fussy.

“Damn,” Tino said under his breath, trying to tickle the baby back into happiness. It wasn’t working for him, and the baby was getting fussier and fussier as the street started going steadily out of view. The waterworks started as soon as the street disappeared around the corner. The baby really wanted to see his older brother. “Berwald,” Tino said. “I don’t think I can make him stop crying. He never stops until he at least hears his brother’s voice, and if he keeps this up, he’s going to attract the whole neighbourhood.” Tino sighed, “I used to have to call his brother up on the phone just so he would talk to Peter, it was the only way to calm him down.”

Berwald was lost for what to do; he stood next to Tino, looking down at the blatting baby with concern. And, without even giving it a second thought, scooped the baby out of Tino’s arms and began patting the baby’s back with a heavy hand. Peter stopped crying in no time flat.

Tino’s eyes widened. “Wow,” he said in amazement, “you’re really good with babies!” Tino jumped happily and sighed in content, “I’m so glad; I can never get him to stop crying when he wants his big brother.” Tino looked at Berwald with a concerned expression, “I hope you don’t mind holding him for the time being?”

“No,” Berwald answered. “We’re almost there anyway.”

 

**† -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- †**

 

“Fucking damn it,” Arthur cursed, running a hand through his hair. “I left my phone on the table downstairs.”

Alfred rolled his eyes, “so did I.” He looked up at the others hopefully, “did you guys have your phones on you when we ran up here yesterday?”

Francis and Matthew both shook their heads at Alfred. Everyone in the room let out a collective sigh of grief. 

“If it’s any consolation, boys, I don’t think a phone is going to do us any good right now,” Francis said, eyes still focused on the road. “It did get a little quieter out there, though, and I can’t even hear the voices beneath us anymore.” Francis looked back at the others and shrugged, he knew just as much as they did. “Considering everything that just happened, the police should have been here yesterday.”

“The military should have been here yesterday,” Alfred said. “The whole fucking neighbourhood and beyond was going nuts.”

Arthur cradled his head in his hands, “I’m not even worried about us right now, idiots.” The others all looked at him quizzically, “we’re safe up here, and we can survive for a day or two without food, but…”

“But what?” Alfred asked. 

“My baby brother,” Arthur tried to say, biting back the fearful tremble threatening to surface. “If this is happening everywhere, and he’s completely defenseless…”

Alfred cut him off before he could continue, “don’t think like that, man!” Alfred stood up in the small space, despite having to crane his neck ever so slightly. “If you start thinking like that, then you might as well just give up on finding him altogether.” Alfred wouldn’t say it, but he always found Arthur’s relationship with his baby brother strange. He never held the baby when he came over, even though Peter would climb all over him, but Arthur was still always happy to see him and extremely protective over him. It was like Arthur had some sort of weird postpartum depression because of his little brother. 

Arthur looked up from his hands, “I guess you’re right,” he said despite his increasing worry. “Plus, if it starts getting really out of hand, I doubt these creeps are anything the military can’t handle.” Arthur chuffed, “if a few of us can take them down, then it shouldn’t be a problem for trained soldiers.” Arthur twiddled his thumbs, “I still want to get my brother, though.”

Everyone else hummed together in agreement.

“So what should we do,” Matthew asked. “Shouldn’t we at least get out of here first?”

Francis suggested they go to the super market for food and weapons before they chanced Arthur’s neighbourhood. It would be no use to run into a dangerous situation without any kind of protection, and the best they had were some kitchen knives. Albeit, extremely sharp kitchen knives. “It’s small, but they have almost anything you could dream about there,” Francis said. “Not that any of you uncultured swine would know, considering I do all the damn shopping in this house.”

“Oh stuff it, Frog.” 

 

**† -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- †**

 

Matthew complained about always having to be the guinea pig, but did as his friends had told him despite this. It was always that way, they told him to do something foolish that they didn’t want to, and he would complain, but he would end up doing it in the end anyways. Except this situation was a lot different than having to do their homework, or cleaning the house, this was a very dangerous situation. “You guys, those things could come out of anywhere and you know how fast they are.”

Arthur looked at him like he was the insane one, “yes, but if there is something down there, we’ll pull you right back up.”

“Don’t worry, Matt, we won’t let anything happen to you!” Alfred all but screamed at him from across the attic. 

“Shut up, Idiot,” Arthur turned around and hissed at Alfred.

Just Matthew’s luck, the damn hosers were pushing him into something without even knowing what they were doing. Sometimes Matthew felt like he was the only one who actually thought about doing something before acting on it. It didn’t even matter, anyways, because they weren’t thinking and they were the majority. Matthew’s complaints and concerns were usually quashed by them immediately. “Fine, whatever, I’m going down.” Matthew stepped on the first rung of the ladder, then looked up at them with as much of a glare as he could muster, “if I get killed down there, just know that I’m going to haunt the hell out of all of you.”

No one seemed to be listening, or rather, they didn’t seem to care. 

Matthew cautiously went down the ladder, cringing every time he took a new step and the wood creaked. He was certain that something was going to fly out around the corner of him.

It would be just his luck.

Matthew stepped on the last rung and waited, and waited, until Arthur leaned over the top and asked him how it was. Luck was on Matthew’s side this time, and even though he was a little worse for wear, he smiled. “It’s fine down here,” Matthew said. “It looks like they got tired and left.”

“Good,” Arthur said, backing up and stepping down the rungs carefully. “It’s fine down here guys, those things left.”

Alfred, ever the exuberant, jumped down from the attic instead of taking the ladder. He almost tripped when he landed, but gained his bearings by grabbing onto Matthew, and laughed. Francis followed him down, but stuck to the ladder. 

When Francis got to the bottom, he regarded Matthew with a smile, “Good work, Matthew.” Francis patted him on the back, causing another smile to form on Matthew’s lips. 

“Now let’s go,” Alfred said. “I’m fucking starving.”

 

**† -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- †**

 

After a few quick calls on the phone that ended with nothing but ‘this number has been disconnected’, they decided it was time to give up on the saccharine idea of someone coming to save them. They began their search through Francis’ knife collection, grabbing the biggest and sharpest of the bunch. They left the house looking like a group of insane wanderers. All of them were wielding knives like they were off to battle, which in reality was kind of what they were doing. If the whole neighbourhood had succumbed to whatever virus or sickness that was, their journey wasn’t going to be a simple relaxing walk in the park.

The road looked horrifying. Though there were no bodies on the road, there was blood. Lots and lots of blood, quarts of it, spattered all over the street. The heat of the day only made it worse, heating the blood on the pavement and causing a rotten smell to pollute the air. It was dense, and it made their empty stomachs churn painfully. The only good thing about the sun was that it was slowly dissolving the blood on the streets. 

They didn’t have a long walk, though, before they were standing directly in front of the super market. The only problem was, they didn’t know if they wanted to go in or not. 

The bodies on the streets were gone, but there were no normal people around, either. So, considering it was a highly populated neighbourhood, that meant they couldn’t have just disappeared. They had to be somewhere, and they all believed that that somewhere was inside the buildings occupying their neighbourhood.

They all looked at Matthew.

“No, you guys,” Matthew said. “I’m tired of this, and I’m starting to think you’re actually trying to kill me.” Matthew was being adamant this time, he really wouldn’t budge, they all realized this when Matthew crossed his arms and looked away from all of them.

Francis was the first speak up, “he’s right, you guys, we can’t keep using him like a guinea pig.” Francis pleaded with the others, “how about, for once, we all go in together? If there are any in there, we would have a greater fighting chance in a group.”

“It’s not a very big group,” Alfred said. 

“So you think it’s better to send one person in there all alone?” Matthew asked. “You always have been the idiot of the family, Al.”

Alfred was taken aback by Matthew’s defiance; Matthew who never spoke up for himself or defended himself – especially against his older step brother – was insulting him. Red in the face from either anger or embarrassment, Matthew turned his back on the entire group.

“Either we all go in, or I’m taking my chances out here alone,” Matthew said under his breath. “Pick your poison.”

Everyone turned to Alfred, awaiting an answer. They were treating him as if it were his responsibility, like he was the leader. “I- I guess we all go in together.”

Matthew turned back around to face them, and the glare Alfred had expected was not present. Instead of a glare, an all-encompassing smile split Matthew’s face from ear to ear. This was Matthew, the man that could never stay mad. The man that chose to forgive people far too easily, despite how terrible they were to him, which was probably why everyone saw him as such a dear friend. “Good,” Matthew’s smile got even wider, if that were even possible. “That’s how friends should always be.”

So they did walk in together. At first they tried for an air of calm collectedness, but with the looming atmosphere, they couldn’t help but shiver and cringe. When they opened the doors to the super market they were instantly met with a chilly gust of air. The inside of the store was cold and clammy from being unattended, and the silence filling the aisles was overwhelming. All of them knew there was something wrong, something more to the store, but they all chose to keep their mouths shut in fear of nixing their mission. 

“The only thing we have to do is grab the stuff we need, then get out,” Alfred whispered to the group.

They all nodded in agreement. 

The lights flashing on and off, along with the occasional sounds of something falling off of a shelf didn’t do much to help the tension in their bodies upon entering the seemingly empty super market. All of them held their knives before them like precious gifts, waiting to be given. None of them would have admitted it at the time, but they were all terrified to the bone. They huddled closer and closer together until they were so close that they were walking with their bodies pressed together. Together they inched down the aisles, grabbing the small things they would need to pack into their rucksacks. 

When they finished scavenging the shelves – which were surprisingly plentiful – they started making their way down to the weapons aisle of the super market. Though it was a small super market, and there would no doubt only be a small amount of weapons to choose from, anything would be better than simple kitchen knives. Whether it be a hunting knife, a bow, or a gun, they would all be useful. 

Alfred chose the hunting supplies first, where all the guns and ammunition would be kept in the back of the store. The guns themselves were hidden behind heavy glass in a carousel-like cabinet, all of them almost completely foreign to the four college boys. Alfred walked up and pressed his face to the glass, enthralled with the guns. “I’ve never held a gun before,” Alfred said, “at least not a real one.”

Arthur walked up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder, “that’s good and all, but how are we supposed to get them out without making too much of a commotion? Also, none of us know how to use a gun.” Arthur’s eyes flashed with despair for a quick moment, “I don’t really want to have to shoot one, either.”

Alfred turned around to face the ash blonde man, “I sincerely hope you don’t have to shoot one, Arthur, but you might have to.” Alfred turned back toward the guns, which no longer seemed cool like in his video games, “we might all have to shoot eventually.” As the boys began arguing about how they would open the cabinet, Francis appeared behind them with a set of keys clasped tight in his hands. 

“You idiots,” he said. “You’re always looking for the hard way out.” Francis jingled the keys in front of Alfred’s face. “No making any unnecessary noise.”

Alfred grabbed the keys out of Francis’ hand and held them in front of his face, promptly turning around to face the guns stacked in the cabinet. As he jammed the key into the lock, he began to feel uncomfortable. He had never shot a gun before; neither of them had shot a gun before, and now they would have to without prior practice. It was like they were signing their death certificates without another thought.

Alfred turned the key and opened the glass doors, but before he even thought about grabbing the guns taunting him, he turned to his friends. 

“You know, gu-”

Before Alfred could get one word out, they all stopped at the sound of the front doors opening. 

 

It wasn’t a particularly loud sound, and it wasn’t like they could hear a hundred people running in at once, but they were all still on edge from their previous experience. They all immediately grabbed a gun and ran for the backroom where the ammo was being stored. There was no point in taking chances, and there was no point in not arming yourself. 

 

**† -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- †**

 

Berwald still had Peter in his arms when they arrived at the super market. They both stopped in front of the store with a concerned look on their faces. 

“We’re not armed,” Tino said, looking into the inky darkness of the super market. “It’s still light out, but it’s really dark in there.”

“It won’t be as dark when we get in there,” Berwald assured. “The emergency lights are on.” As for the unarmed ordeal, Berwald didn’t want to make any promises he couldn’t keep. If something were to happen, Berwald would guard Tino and the child with his life without hesitation, but one person couldn’t make much of a difference. If a large group were to corner them, Berwald would only be able to hold off the inevitable. 

He shook his head to relinquish the thought, and held Peter closer to him instinctively. 

Tino didn’t seem to notice – or chose not to notice – that Berwald had completely left out the fact that they were completely unarmed. 

“I’m just worried,” Tino said. “There were so many of those things to begin with, but now…” Tino looked around to indicate the absolutely vacantness of the streets. “There’s no one to be seen now,” he looked up at Berwald, squinting his eyes under the sun’s bright rays. “They can’t have just disappeared, that wouldn’t make any sense.”

Berwald himself was concerned with the fact that most of the creatures he had seen before were gone, but chose to be happy about it instead of question it. They were better off if those things just disappeared, but Berwald knew they wouldn’t be so lucky. Instead of responding to Tino’s worries, or thinking about his own, he chose to walk toward the super market doors without another word. He decided that it would better for them to worry about the task at hand, rather than worry about the possible future. Tino followed behind him after he handed Peter to him without a question.

Berwald was surprised at Tino’s trust in him. Some of Berwald’s family didn’t trust him around them, let alone strangers he had just met. Tino had even let him hold Peter without any qualms about it. He couldn’t explain why, but it made him upset that Tino laid so much trust in him. He didn’t think he was capable of protecting him like he wanted. Berwald was afraid that in the end, something he did or didn’t do would cause harm to Tino or Peter, or both. Berwald bit his bottom lip and opened the doors to the chilly super market. 

They walked into the super market together, and instantly the baby reacted. He didn’t begin crying, but he was close. Along with the cold and hunger, the baby would become fussy in no time. “We have to hurry through here,” Tino said in a whisper. “Peter is going to start crying soon, that would attract the wrong kind of attention.” Berwald watched as Tino tucked the small baby into his shirt for warmth; the baby still seemed disturbed but it would buy them some time. 

Tino began leading the way this time, hurrying his way down to the baby aisle with Berwald close behind. It was only when they got close to the weapons section that Berwald was struck with an idea. “We need weapons,” Berwald stated.

Tino didn’t respond until he realized what Berwald was suggesting, “we do need weapons.”

Berwald was surprised by Tino’s willingness to bear arms as most people were reluctant, but he didn’t complain. It was better off that way. 

“We need to hurry, though.” 

Berwald nodded and hurried ahead of Tino, however, he stopped dead in his tracks when they came to the guns section. 

“It looks like someone had the same idea as us,” Tino whispered after his eyes focused on what Berwald was looking at. Tino walked toward the guns and fingered them casually as he examined each of them. He pulled one out and handled it like he had been handling them for years, “I haven’t shot one in a long time,” Tino said, which shocked Berwald. “But I definitely know how to shoot.” 

Berwald was slightly disturbed by the scene before him. A young boy, just barely out of high school, was holding a child in one hand and a gun in there other. It looked like a scene straight out of a horror movie. Despite himself, though, Berwald cocked his head to the side for Tino to explain himself.

“I grew up in Finland,” Tino laughed. “Guns are a big thing now.” He looked at Berwald, “but you probably know that already, you’re from Sweden.”

Berwald nodded, but was also slightly confused as to how Tino knew he was Swedish.

“My Da used to come home and tell me how he worked with a ‘Damn Swede,” Tino whispered with a smile in his voice. “I think you’re nice though,” Tino smiled up at Berwald and handed him a gun. “You saved my life, after all.”

Berwald took a moment to take it all in, and then began to chuckle quietly. 

Tino looked annoyed, if not slightly flustered, “what?”

Berwald stopped his chuckling quickly, but chose to not tell Tino why he had been laughing in the first place. Tino would most likely be insulted by Berwald telling him he was short for a Finnish man.

Tino quickly stopped his attempt at getting an answer out of Berwald, and instead favoured the gun in his hands with a sullen look. “There’s no ammo in them, though,” Tino looked over the separate cash in the weapons sections. “There should be some back there,” Tino walked toward the small back room while whispering under his breath. “I know the models, so I’ll be able to find them easily enough.” And, before Berwald could protest, Tino pulled the door to the back room open. 

A loud shot rang through the super market.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohoho! Even I think that ending was a little mean of me, but what is life without cliff-hangers?
> 
> As always, don't be afraid to ask me questions and whatnot! I left the link to my tumblr on my profile, and on the bottom of this page, so if you want to ask something anonymously you can. I'm always surfing around tumblr so your questions will be answered immediately. Shoot me up, I love answering your questions!
> 
> Destielweepings . tumblr . com


	8. Hungry

"I can't do it," Lovino whispered. "I can't do it."

"You can, Lovi, it's going to be OK," the Spaniard's hand brushed Lovino's trembling back gently. "If we can make it as far as the surgical ward, we'll be fine."

Lovino slapped Antonio's hand away weakly, "don't promise me things you can't guarantee." Lovino tried to stand up again, and then promptly dropped to the ground on trembling legs, "those things have tricked you more than once."

Antonio's eyebrows knit together in annoyance, "I won't let it happen again, Lovino." Antonio grabbed Lovino by one arm and pulled him gently into a standing position. "I would sooner throw myself in front of a horde of them than let y-"

Lovino – despite his deteriorating strength – punched Antonio with all of his remaining strength in the shoulder, "don't say such stupid things, bastard."

Antonio touched the area Lovino punched with a wince; the Italian was strong, much stronger than Antonio had anticipated. Though he couldn't stand yet, and he seemed to be getting sicker from all the running, he was still a powerful man. "It will be much safer if we both go out together."

"Why?" Lovino almost screamed, holding himself back in fear of alerting the wandering creatures beyond the dispensary doors. "I can't stand, I'll only slow you down," Lovino glared at Antonio through his dirty hair. "Get the stuff out of the surgical ward then bring it back."

"Lovi," Antonio said in a pained voice. "If I leave you here, I might not be able to get back to you."

"I can fend for my own," Lovino spat. "And I thought I told you to stop calling me that."

"Or worse yet," the Spaniard continued, disregarding Lovino's complaints. "Something will happen to you when I'm gone."

Lovino, looking into the man's watery eyes, couldn't believe what he was seeing. The man in front of him was about to cry over the prospect of him dying. Lovino was a complete stranger to this man, and Antonio was a complete stranger in turn. He wanted to know what it was that that made this man so protective over him. Was it the fact that he was a nurse, and didn't want to see his patients harmed?

That was probably it.

"Lovino, please."

"Don't 'Lovino, please' me, asshole," Lovino pulled away from Antonio's steadying hands and almost collapsed to the ground. Before he could fall, however, he caught hold of a cabinet and held himself up. He ignored his trembling legs in favour of shooting another glare – which was becoming harder and harder to do as he looked at the nurses' sad expression – at the Spaniard. "If you try to bring me out there, I'll scream. Then where will you be?"

Antonio closed his eyes and sighed, "Lovino, I know you don't want to die." He opened his eyes again and flashed Lovino a small, encouraging smile, "I'm scared too."

"Who said I was scared?" Lovino spit out.

"I'm terrified," Antonio began, again choosing to ignore Lovino's argument. "Dead bodies walking around, eating people," Antonio looked up at the ceiling, almost as if reminiscing. "I never thought I would live to see something like this." He laughed quietly, "my brother, João*, used to always tell me that I would be the first person to die in this kind of scenario."

"I'm surprised you haven't died yet," Lovino spat. "You're being so fucking reckless."

"I might die," Antonio said as if it were the easiest thing to say in the world. "But I'm not going to let you die, not after everything you've survived so far."

"You idi-"

Before Lovino could finish scolding the Spaniard, he picked Lovino up from where he was standing and hiked him over his shoulder like a football player would. Not the most comfortable hold, but the most convenient one for running. "You can scream all you want, but I won't let them get to you."

Lovino was rendered momentarily speechless.

With several hard kicks, Antonio successfully knocked the shelves and cabinets blocking the door. They clattered to the floor noisily, and made Lovino cringe. Would the sound alert the others outside?

"You're crazy," Lovino said. "You're really fucking crazy." And, before Lovino could protest any more, Antonio whipped the door to the outside open. Lovino closed his eyes and cringed, waiting for the sound of the oncoming horde.

The hall was completely empty, except for a few tracks of blood left on the floor outside of the dispensary. The door they had just been behind was covered in blood as well, and if closely inspected, one would find small pieces of loose flesh clinging to broken pieces of the door. It was gruesome sight, but Lovino tried his best not to think about it.

Lovino felt Antonio breathe a short sigh of relief at the emptiness of the hallway, and he himself did so in response. It didn't do anything to calm Lovino down, but if anything, it was better than being chased down by a horde and killed. He would accept that little gift.

Antonio looked around a few times, looking for any signs of the creatures that has chased them down. There was nothing, not a sound.

Lovino's hearing became hypersensitive as they began walking down the hall. Every little sound, every little creak, every little breath would not go unheard by Lovino's ears. The adrenaline pumping through his veins kept him on edge, unable to settle down. But the terror was not the worst part about being inside the hospital.

The silence and the anticipation were the worst parts.

Lovino swore that he could hear his own organs working inside his body, and the sound of his blood coursing through his veins. The silence was so heavy that he could hear the sound of the hair on Antonio's head rustling every time he moved even the slightest bit. Being quiet enough to hear a pin drop was an understatement for the silence on the hospital floor.

When they reached the exit door that lead down to the surgical ward, Lovino's hands tightened around Antonio's shirt, balling up the fabric in his tight fists. He was afraid that when they came to the bend in the hallway, the others patients would be waiting for them. He was afraid that this time they wouldn't be able to run away. He squeezed his eyes shut and listened, waiting for the erratic breathing of one of the dead patients. He was listening so intensely that he almost screamed when Antonio patted his back with his free hand.

"It's OK, Lovino, we're almost there." Antonio gripped the handle of the door tightly and swallowed hard, "just a few more steps and were there."

Lovino nodded his head despite not being able to see Antonio's face properly from his current position. He didn't ask the obvious question of what they would do if they surgical ward was overrun. Lovino was certain that Antonio had asked himself the same thing already. There was no time for questions though, they either had to take their chances or die from starvation.

When the door swung open they were met with a frigid gust of air and a smell so pungent and rotten it made them gag. The smell alone made Lovino want to ask Antonio to go back. And, as if Antonio himself was contemplating the same thing himself, he backed up a few steps with his free arm held over his nose. "I don't know what's down there that could make such a smell," Antonio said, voice muffled by his arm. He seemed concerned.

The fact that Antonio himself was so worried did nothing to help Lovino keep his mind off of their situation. In fact, Antonio's worry made his heart sink and his ears ring. It made Lovino wish that he had been killed by one of the soldiers' way back in his room. The only thing that was keeping him going at this point was the possibility that Feliciano was still alive and safe somewhere.

Lovino held his own arm up to cover his nose, much like Antonio, and held his breath. He would persevere, even if it killed him. That was the only choice he had at this point, anyway.

Antonio walked into the exit, closing the door firmly behind himself, and immediately looked over the railing to see what was producing such an awful smell. But, even with the light from the hall, they could see nothing. The exit was completely barren; void of all life. This was an even greater cause for worry for the both of them. It meant that it had to be coming from something on the floor beneath them.

"There are small fridges in the surgical ward," Antonio said, trying to encourage Lovino. "They usually keep them there for patients that get hungry in the middle of the night, or when the nurses aren't right on hand."

"I thought you just started working here," Lovino said. "How the hell do you know all of this?"

"Well," Antonio said, "there are some things I can remember, and some that I can't." Antonio smiled to himself as a fond memory came forward. "I remember this about the surgical ward because, when I was being shown around, I remember a little girl running to one of the fridges and trying to force a Popsicle on her recovering mother." Antonio laughed as he took the stairs two at a time, "kids are so cute."

Lovino grumbled despite the sweet image that came to his mind of a young Feliciano, "I hate kids."

"I'm sure you don't 'hate' kids, Lovino," Antonio patted him on the back again. "Hate is a really strong word, you know?"

"I know," Lovino said confidently. "I know it's a strong word, and I'm saying I fucking hate kids."

Antonio didn't laugh out loud, but Lovino could feel his back shaking from the laughter. It made Lovino himself want to laugh along with him. His chuckling was cut short, however, when they came to the exit for the surgical wards floor. "This is it, Lovino," instead of the tremble of laughter, Lovino could feel the tremble of fear in Antonio's back. "We're here."

Antonio opened the door slowly, rather than quickly like the one on the floor two stories above. The smell was the first thing that caught them; of course. It was definitely coming from the surgical unit. The only thing they were worried about at this point, however, was whether or not the bearer of the smell was dead or not.

Antonio carefully peaked his head into the room, holding his breath so he didn't gag at the smell coming from the room. He looked from side to side until his eyes happened upon the source of the smell, lying in a bed at the corner of the room. He reached into his pocket and gripped the screwdriver he still had hidden, readying himself for an attack.

An attack didn't come, however. They weren't attacked because the corpse lying in the corner of the room was already dead, long dead, judging by the smell coming from it.

Antonio's eyebrows knit together in confusion when he walked into the room, looking down at the dead patient in the bed. Judging by the smell and the deterioration of the corpse, the person had been dead for at least five days.

The outbreak had only happened one day past.

"Is it OK?" Lovino asked, kicking his feet a little to get the Spaniard's attention.

Antonio had been so caught up in the corpse that he had almost completely forgotten he had Lovino still hanging over his shoulder. He promptly turned away from the corpse and walked toward the chair sitting in front of the observation computers. Antonio put Lovino down carefully and directed his attention toward the corpse.

"Holy shit, is that sti-"

"Whoever that was died a long time ago," Antonio said, scratching his chin. "I just don't understand why the corpse has been down here for so long." He looked at the corpse for a long time, trying to judge what had happened without actually approaching it. The only thing that broke him out of his stupor was the sound of Lovino's stomach growling.

Antonio turned around and favoured Lovino with a large smile, "hungry?"

"Obviously," Lovino said. "I haven't eaten in fucking ages."

"I'm hungry too," Antonio walked over to where Lovino sat and picked him up again, instead this time he positioned him on his shoulders with his legs wrapped around his neck. "We need to scope this place out, anyways."

"You fucking pervert," Lovino punched the top of Antonio's head half-heartedly, too tired and hungry to protest any longer. "I'm only wearing this gown."

"I know," Antonio said. He looked up at Lovino through dark lashes, "I wanted to see how red your face could turn." Antonio laughed, "and by the looks of it, very red."

"You dirty bastard," Lovino said, digging his heels into Antonio's chest as he tried to will the embarrassing blush off of his face.

Antonio continued laughing as he walked around a corner and in through a door that lead to a room with an operating table. They both stopped what they were doing in favour of staring at the body on the floor.

It was the body of a soldier, lying dead in a pool of his own blood. And, judging by the blood spattering the ceiling, he had chosen to take his own life.

Lovino averted his eyes, swallowing hard. The sight was too dark for even him to take.

They both remained silent until loud static cut through the silence in the room, followed by a voice on the other end.

They both looked at each other, then Antonio quickly reached for the walkie-talkie on the man's hip, and turned it down. The static was so loud he was worried that it had alerted some of the infected, so he made sure to lock the door to the operating room.

Antonio held the walkie-talkie up to his ears, and listened. It was a recorded message, but it wasn't from any of the military bases. It was from a person, a regular person.

"This is Heracles Karpusi, I'm not a soldier but I am from the outside of the hospital. I'm looking for any survivors. I have a few survivors with me," the voice stopped for a moment, as if contemplating something. "There are seven of us. We think we can help, if you are willing to help in return."

Antonio let out a relieved huff, "I'm so happy, someone else is still alive out there."

Lovino shared his sentiments, and nodded for him to message back.

Antonio held the walkie-talkie up to his face, praying that the people on the other side were still there, and prepared to speak. But. before he could do so, a loud bang from the operating room door almost made him drop the precious radio. Lovino and Antonio held back twin gasps, both trying to remain as still as possible so as not to alert the creatures.

The banging grew louder.

"It's no use, Antonio, those fucking things can smell us," Lovino pulled on Antonio's hair to wake him up. "Let's just go back to the bed rest room and lock ourselves in."

Antonio did so without protest, but first he leaned down and picked the small pistol up from where it lay beside the dead soldier.

Lovino was right, those creatures could smell them through the walls, being quiet was no use any more. He ran through the door, almost crashing into the computer monitors and put Lovino down into the computer chair before locking the door behind them. When the click of the lock snapping into place broke the silence in the small room, they both sighed, not in relief, however. They both knew that the hospital was completely overrun now.

There was nowhere left to go.

Lovino hadn't even realized he had started crying until he felt his hot tears dropping onto his cold skin, streaking his pale flesh. He ducked his head down so Antonio wouldn't see, but he was too late. Antonio was next to him in an instant, hand patting his trembling back. "It's OK, Lovi, we'll get out of here alive."

"How do you know that?" Lovino looked up at Antonio through bleary eyes. "This place is swarming with those things, and there's nowhere left for us to go any more " Lovino sucked back his tears, "those god damn people can't do anything to help us; if armed soldiers couldn't do it, then they certainly can't." Lovino almost regretted what he said, until he realized Antonio's confident attitude wasn't disappearing, in fact, it was morphing into something else.

"Those soldiers were murderers, Lovino." Antonio's fist clenched where it was positioned on Lovino's back. "They were punished."

Lovino was shocked at Antonio's sudden change in character, but didn't have time to comment when the Spaniard brought the radio up to his mouth and began speaking in a frantic voice. All semblance of his past murderous rage disappeared.

"I hope someone is still there," Antonio whispered frantically. "I know you called in a long time ago, but we were trapped."

No answer.

"My name is Antonio Carriedo; I was trapped in the dispensary of the hospital with a patient," a loud crash, louder than the others, rang through the surgical ward. Antonio's tone became even more hurried. "We escaped the dispensary and went into the surgical ward, but it's not as safe as we thought it would be," another abnormally loud crash cut Antonio off. "The only good that came out of this is that I found a weapon, and of course this radio…"

Antonio pulled the radio away from his mouth, patting Lovino's back as his sobbing became more erratic. He was beginning to panic again. "It's OK, Lovino, I won't let us die here."

To both of their surprise, someone finally answered. _"You said a patient, are you a doctor?"_

Antonio was so happy that there was still someone out there, so happy that he had to take a moment to contain his excitement. When he finally deemed himself calm enough, he answered, "No, but I am a registered nurse."

Antonio heard another voice trying to speak on the other side of the radio, but it promptly stopped when the man he was currently talking to shushed whoever it was that was trying to speak.

After a moment, the voice began speaking again, _"what is wrong with your patient?"_

Antonio thought it was strange to be asking questions about his patient, but he answered despite this, "he has severe pneumonia." Antonio had to bring his voice down, the crashing sounds coming from outside were becoming increasingly louder. "When the soldiers started killing everyone, not just the infected, I hid in a secretary's desk. When I came out, I got chased down by a bunch of the infected people, and by chance ended up in a room with a completely untouched patient. I was so happy." Antonio's voice went from frightened to happy as he began talking about finding Lovino alive. "He's doing so well, I think he'll be able to walk properly soon."

_"How old is your patient?"_ The voice asked him, almost cautiously.

"My patient," Antonio said, confused about all the questions being asked about his patient. He shook his head and answered despite this, it was no time to be playing head games, "oh, he's still a very young man, so he's getting better very quickly." Another crash rang through the surgical ward, much louder than the last few. Antonio himself gasped, and Lovino cursed. The creatures had gotten through the first set of doors. They needed to hurry, one round of bullets wouldn't do much for them. If anything, shooting a gun would make their situation worse.

The remained still and quiet, but knew that it was no use. The creatures would pick up their scent soon enough.

Suddenly another voice came through the radio, a voice that did not belong to the man that Antonio had been previously speaking to. _"What is your patient's name?"_ The voice screamed, frantic, into the radio. The person was so loud that Antonio had to pull the receiver of the radio away from his ear.

"My patient's name?" Antonio's eyebrows quirked as he brought the radio back to his lips. More questions about his patient. "Why would yo-"

Without warning Lovino's hand shot out and snatched the radio out of Antonio's hand.

"Wait, Lovino, what's wrong?" Antonio reached out for the radio, but Lovino had it up to his lips before he could stop him.

"Feliciano?" Lovino asked, voice trembling as he tried to hold back his tears.

Antonio's let his hand drop, and his mouth along with it. It couldn't be, they couldn't be so lucky. Nothing like that could possibly...

_"Lovino!"_ The voice screamed through the radio, so pleased that he was sure the person on the other end was jumping up and down. _"Lovino, I thought I lost you, I thought you were dead."_

Antonio couldn't help the smile that tried to spread on his face. If anything, Lovino finding out that his brother was still alive was more motivation to get out of the hospital alive.

"Stupid brother," Lovino cried into the radio. "I thought you were dead."

A bang on the door of the room they were occupying stopped the rejoicing quickly, however. The creatures had finally sniffed them out.

_"Lovino, what is that banging sound?"_ Feliciano asked on the other end. _"Please tell me you're somewhere safe right now."_

Lovino was quiet until another bang told him that they didn't have much time. The metal of the door was already bending under the pressure. "I'm not going to lie to you," Lovino said, watching Antonio eyes move from him to the corpse on the other side of the room. "We're not safe at all." Lovino moved his mouth away from the radio, "what the hell are you doing, Antonio?" He watched as Antonio leaned down and laid his hand on the corpse's body.

Antonio turned around, sizing Lovino up carefully. "I have an idea."

Lovino rolled his eyes and returned to the radio, finally answering his brother's frantic questions. "It's alright, Feli," Lovino glared at Antonio, but his eyes were pleading with him at the same time. "Antonio has an idea."

Lovino was about to say something to calm his brother down again, but his thought process was completely ruined when he witnessed Antonio stabbing into the corpse with his screwdriver. That wasn't the worst of it, though, because as soon as Antonio made a decent sized hole in the body, he forced both of his hands into the corpse's body, and ripped it's flesh apart.

Lovino was horrified, and without even realizing it, screamed directly into the mouthpiece of the radio. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Antonio didn't answer; he only continued pulling the corpse apart with his bare hands. He was completely covered in blood from the waist down, and his arms were a gruesome mess.

"Stop that, what's w-"

Antonio, without a word, walked over and smeared the contents of the corpse's body all over him. Lovino wanted to scream at him, he wanted to run, but the only thing he could do was lean over the chair he was sitting in and gag – unable to puke because he hadn't eaten in almost two days.

Antonio walked away from him, observing his work. When he seemed satisfied, he turned back to the corpse and continued covering his own body in blood.

"Just trust me, Lovino," Antonio said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, as he covered his chest in the thick fluids.

_"-vino, Lovino, Lovino, please answer me!"_

Lovino brought his trembling hand up to his mouth, and finally spoke into the radio. "I-I-It's fine… I'm fine." Lovino watched in shocked horror and Antonio walked back over to him and began slathering more blood onto him. This time running his blood soaked hands through his hair. And, even though Lovino was completely appalled by it, he trusted whatever was going through Antonio's head.

Antonio leaned in close and whispered, "listen."

Lovino tried his best to calm his heaving chest, and willed away the haze that threatened to take over his mind. And when he finally came back to himself, he realized the banging on the door had completely stopped. Though he could still hear the sound of the creatures on the other side of the door, they seemed to have completely lost interest in them, or rather…

"They lost out scent," Antonio said.

Lovino's eyes widened when he realized how that had happened. Antonio had slathered the blood of the dead patient on the both of them, and that had warded them off. He wanted to tell Antonio that he was brilliant, he wanted to thank him, but he was too stunned to say anything to him.

"I had a feeling it would work," Antonio said, looking down at the mess of blood on the both of them. "Those things only started trying to come into this room when we walked in, and they seemed to have no interest even with the two bodies lying on the floor." Antonio stretched his arms above his head, "now that I think about it, when I was being chased they never even paid attention to the bodies on the floor."

"Why?" Lovino finally asked.

"I don't know, Lovi," Antonio said, scratching the back of his head then stopping quickly when he realized his hands were still covered in gore. "I can only assume that it's because they don't want to eat anything that's already dead."

"That's sick," Lovino said.

"I know it's sick, but haven't you noticed?" Antonio hunkered down in front of Lovino. "They don't eat each other."

The people on the other side of the radio started speaking, but this time it wasn't Feliciano talking. _"You're right,"_ the first man they had talked to said. _"I don't know why I didn't think of it the way you did."_

Lovino could hear the triumph in Antonio's voice, "because I'm a nurse."

The line went dead for several moments on the other end; they were probably trying to think of how to continue. _"What floor are you on right now,"_ the man asked.

"Fifth."

_"Fuck,"_ the voice cursed on the other end. _"You're still pretty high up there."_

"I know," Antonio said. "But we didn't have much trouble getting from the seventh to the fifth."

"You fucking liar," Lovino said.

The voice on the other end actually cracked a laugh, _"your patient has quite the mouth on him."_

"I know, but it's OK, I still like him," Antonio smiled.

Lovino rolled his eyes and looked away from the Spaniard, finding his unbreakable good attitude completely unbearable.

_"Good," the man on the other end stated with his mouth farther away from the radio, responding to something someone else was saying to him. _"Do you know what time in the day it is, Antonio?"__

_Antonio cocked his head to the side as he tried to remember the light of the day. However, he found that he couldn't remember whether it was light out or not. "I don't really know what time it is any more," Antonio answered honestly._

__"It's starting to get light out now."_ _

_"That's wonderful for you, bastard, but how does this help our situation, exactly?" Lovino asked._

_The voice on the other end laughed again, _"we're going to help you get out of the hospital, that's how it helps you."_ The voice on the other end continued, _"they seem to be bothered by the light, and when they're in pursuit, they stop quicker. At night, however, they are very persistent."__

_"How could you help us?" Antonio asked, confused. "It's not like any of you can see what we're about to walk into."_

__"I'm not sure,"_ the voice on the other end began. _"But when I was out looking with my binoculars, I saw a van."__

_"And?" Lovino asked, already becoming short with the man on the other side of the radio._

__"It was a surveillance van."_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for how late this chapter is, but I've been really busy preparing for a public speaking competition coming up in my school. The competition itself is only after March Break, but I'm buried in other school work and university applications along with the competition. Being a senior blows.
> 
> I'll still have another chapter out next week though, so hang in there!
> 
> * João is Portugal's fan-made character.


	9. Crash

A loud shot rang through the supermarket.

After the shot was fired, a young man of about 20 years old stood with eyes wide open as he realized what he had done. His throat worked tirelessly as he tried to produce words, and his hands twitched restlessly next to his hips as he tried to move. He didn't know what to do. He could only listlessly regard the scene in front of him as a black vignette trying to simultaneously eat away his vision and his consciousness.

This was his second victim.

"Tino, Peter, thank goodness!" Arthur's quivering voice cut through the white noise filtering into Alfred's mind. Hearing his voice finally caused Alfred to react to the situation.

The situation he had caused

Alfred got down on his knees next to the young man he had just shot, and quickly took the baby out of his arms. He tried to hand the small child to Arthur, but he declined, saying that he needed to help Tino first. He regarded Arthur carefully at this, but decided that it wasn't the time or the place to start an argument. Instead of battling with Arthur, Alfred called Matthew from where he stood trembling behind the weapon carousel, and handed him the swaddled baby without question. As always, Matthew was more than eager to help. He rocked the baby gently back and forth, humming quietly as he walked the baby away from the bloody scene.

They were lucky that the baby wasn't harmed.

When Alfred was satisfied that everything was settled, he looked at the bullet wound on the young man. Looking into the deep red gash, Alfred felt a heady need to topple over and vomit, but he held it back in favour of ripping a piece of his shirt apart to create a makeshift tourniquet.

"It's a damn good thing you're a bad shot," Francis said from behind them, voice betraying him as it trembled through his cocky tone

Alfred and Arthur both shot him a bitter look, but otherwise didn't respond to his taunting. There was no point in beginning a fight in their already weakened state.

"Why did you walk in here all alone," Arthur asked frantically, looking down at the small boy, eyebrows knitting together. "You had a baby with you, why would you take such a stupid risk?" When he didn't answer, Arthur got close enough to feel his hot breath ghosting over his chilled skin, "answer me!"  
When Tino didn't answer him, Arthur was about to grab him by the collar so he could shake him around a little, but opted against it when he noticed his fragile state. The boy was, in fact, trying to answer him. He just couldn't. At such a close range, Arthur could just barely hear short little wheezes escaping his mouth. Arthur remembered this noise all too well. He backed up from Tino as calmly as possible, regarding his shallowly rising and falling chest, "oh no."

"Don't say that," Alfred said as he fastened the tourniquet tighter in an attempt to slow the bleeding. "Please don't tell me there's something else wrong," Alfred asked, looking over the young boy carefully and coming to his own conclusions. "He's not bleeding that bad," Alfred said frantically, looking at the dripping bullet wound and then back at the boy's jerkily rising and falling chest. Alfred looked up at Arthur, eyes wild with panic, "why is he not breathing!?"

Arthur was about to tell Alfred to relax, but he didn't have time to when a noise averted his attention away from his ash blonde friend and toward the source of the sound. The sound in question was made by a dark figure that stood only inches away from them when he – or it – knocked a can off of shelf. From where everyone was sitting, the figure was only half visible in the shadow of the aisles. He was a tall, brutish looking creature with white blonde hair and striking blue eyes. And he stood there, so still and silent that they thought he was one of the infected.

He wasn't, however.

They all almost jumped out of their skin when he walked toward them, revealing himself from the inky shadows. Alfred himself stood up – readying himself for an attack – only to stop instantly when he realized the man was not, in fact, infected. His gait was too direct and his eyes too clear. Alfred chose not to sit down, however, asking for the man's name and his business with them.

The man didn't answer the overzealous boy, sighing nervously as he sat down beside Tino's fallen body. And, before anyone could react, rested one of his hands over Tino's furrowed brows. Arthur himself was about to stab the man out of fear, until he finally started speaking to the wounded man on the floor.

"Are you OK, Tino?" He questioned the young man with the golden blonde locks.

Tino only nodded in response to the larger man's question, letting out a sharp yowl when Alfred sat down and pulled the tourniquet around his leg tighter than necessary. The taller man seemed to react negatively, as he grabbed Alfred's arm in a threatening grip.

"Relax," Arthur said in an attempt to calm the intimidating blonde man down. "He's just trying to help." Arthur patted the man's shoulder reassuringly, "I know Tino, so you don't have to worry about him."

The man seemed about to say something as he opened his mouth, but all that escaped him was a short stutter. When nothing came out he just closed his mouth and looked back at Tino, a deep crease forming on his forehead as he observed his now sallow skin. Tino already had a sheen of sweat on him despite the bitter cold of the supermarket, and his breath was starting to come in increasingly shorter bursts.

"He's asthmatic," the man said, voice only loud enough for the people hovering over Tino's body to hear.

Alfred looked down at the small and fragile man on the ground, trying his best to keep the fear out of his eyes. He had just shot an asthmatic man, and it was clear that he was about to go into an asthma attack because of it. He finally realized that that was why his breathing was so erratic even after fastening the tourniquet. "Please tell me that you or he has a puffer somewhere," Alfred whispered, pawing at Tino's pockets in search of a pump before the brutish blonde man could even answer.

"No," he answered simply. He began whispering something to Tino in an attempt to calm him down, but was only met with Tino's breathless attempt at speech. One of Tino's hands climbed upward and grabbed a hold of his shoulder, holding tight in a silent plea for help.

"What, are you kidding me?" Alfred's hands unconsciously tightened around the fabric in his hands, causing the tourniquet to tighten painfully around Tino's leg. "You're running around with an asthmatic and a baby, and you don't even have a puffer for him?" Alfred clenched his fists even tighter, and only realized what he was doing when Tino cried out breathlessly, hands reaching out for his in an attempt to stop him.

"God damn it, Alfred," Arthur cried, ripping his hands away from the tourniquet. "You're going to make him a bloody amputee if you keep that up." Arthur slapped his hands away when they reached back out for the tourniquet, causing Alfred to fall onto his backside from the force.

Alfred shook his head and watched from where he was sitting as Arthur fastened the tourniquet properly, cautiously watching the tall blonde man with the heavy accent despite Tino silently deeming him trustworthy. Alfred himself trusted Tino because Arthur knew him, but he didn't trust the bigger man. Even though he seemed gentle enough, when Tino seemed to be in danger, he reacted very quickly, and with great force. That meant the tall blonde man was extremely strong, and that would be a problem if his rage happened to get out of hand. Alfred massaged his arm where the tall man had grabbed him, pulling his sleeve back to see that it was already bruising.

The man hulking over Tino really was a brute.

Alfred scoffed when the other man's icy eyes met his threateningly, and stood up, brushing his pants off as he did so. Instead of lingering any longer than he had to, he joined Matthew and Francis where they both fussed over the small baby. Peter Kirkland, the baby that they had seen many times when he was brought over to visit Arthur. The baby was fine, so their biggest worry was put to rest. Now the only thing they had to worry about was food, and of course properly treating Tino. Alfred slapped a hand to his face in annoyance; it seemed that one thing happened after another.

"Hey, Pete," Alfred said, cutting the worry out of his voice so as not to disturb the child. He mussed the baby's hair with his good hand, the one not covered in blood. "Haven't seen you in a while."

The baby didn't greet him with his regular gurgle, however, as he was too busy reaching his little arms out toward his older brother.

Arthur himself was still sitting beside Tino, saying something inaudible from where they were standing as he checked the deep gash in his leg, the tall blonde man only nodded every time Arthur said something. Alfred couldn't quite explain it, but seeing Arthur only inches away from the hulking blonde man made him nervous. He knew Arthur could fend for his own, he had personally seen Arthur defending himself, but something in him made him feel like he needed to protect the cheeky blonde from any impending dangers.

"Arthur," the baby cried out, chubby hands straining toward his older brother.

The babies words caused Alfred's worry to fade, and caused the others to smile and chuckle. Peter had learned to say a few words in the short few months that they hadn't seen him. It was no surprise really, with such a rude and impudent older brother, one needed to learn to speak in order to protect themselves. Alfred chuckled to himself softly as he looked at Peter's flushed face.

Arthur himself seemed to have noticed this as well, as he finally turned away from Tino to look at his little brother with a shocked expression; the haze of terror in his eyes finally fading. It was as if he was only noticing that his little brother was safe.

"Arthur," the baby bubbled out when he realized he had finally gotten his brother's attention by speaking. "Arthur, Arthur, Arthur!" His feet kicked out this time as he tried to wrestle himself out of Matthew's arms.

They were all so enchanted by the baby that they hadn't even realized Arthur had begun crying. Only when his sobs echoed through the super market did they finally look up to see Arthur with his head bowed forward and his tears hitting the super market floor.

"Arthur," Alfred whispered, eyebrows creased. Seeing his friend like that made him want, more than anything, to walk over and comfort him. To tell him that everything would be alright.

Matthew, in response to Arthur's tears, put the small baby down onto the floor. Peter wobbled on his knees at first, falling over onto his butt as he tried desperately to crawl, and for a moment they all thought he wouldn't be able to walk. But, to their surprise, on the second try he started crawling on his elbows and knees. With his determination, he got all the way to his crying brother in less than a minute. One of his small hands shot up immediately, and he grabbed the lapels of his brother's shirt. He leveraged himself up and looked up to his brother's face, expecting a kiss.

He didn't get a kiss.

It took a moment for the baby to react, but when he saw his brother crying, he responded in the same fashion. At first it was small sniffles, then little keens of distress, and then eventually full blown sobs.

"Oh no," Francis said, walking over to the baby. "Please don't be loud, little one, your big brother's alright." He picked the baby up and tried to cradle him out of his fit, but it didn't work. In fact, pulling him away from Arthur only made him sob harder than he was before.

Arthur, however, didn't seem to notice from where he was positioned on the floor. He only continued to cry, more quiet than before but still crying nonetheless. He definitely wasn't helping their case.

Alfred walked over to Arthur cautiously, and dropped down next to him on the cold linoleum floor. His hand hovered over his friends back for a moment, not knowing whether he should try to comfort his friend, or just cry with him. He could feel the exhaustion and fear radiating off of Arthur's skin, so he opted to try to make him feel better. Alfred let his hand drop around Arthur's shoulders and patted his back with his free hand. "Your brother's good, man," Alfred said, only a hair's breadth away from his friend's ear. "He's fine, Tino's fine, we're all going to be fine."

Arthur wiped at his eyes with the cuff of his shirt and sucked back the tears that threatened to come spilling back out. Alfred continued to sit next to Arthur, trying to comfort him as the others tried to calm the colicky baby with pointless words and gentle coos, to no avail. Without Arthur, no one could calm the baby down, and Arthur was clearly not in the state to be calming down his brother. If anything, Arthur would only make the baby cry more with his tear thick voice.

Of course they wouldn't have assumed that the hulking blonde man with the thick accent would be able to calm it down. So when he stood up and walked toward them, naturally their reaction was to get angry and defensive. The man seemed to understand this, and held his hands up to show that he meant no harm. "I would not hurt Peter." They all watched cautiously as the man got closer, and to their surprise, with each cautious step the baby's cries became lower and lower. The man reached out for the baby when he was at arm's length, and Matthew's first instinct was to hold the baby away from him despite the child reacting positively to his presence.

"-S…S- it's…OK…" Tino tried to gasp out through his oncoming attack. Despite his words being jumbled and breathless, Matthew got the idea that Tino was saying the man in front of him was alright.

Matthew nodded his head at the smaller, incredibly harmless looking man on the floor. If he said it was alright, then it was probably alright. Matthew gave the larger man in front of him one strong, threatening glare that said 'if you try anything I'll kill you' before handing the small baby over to him.

The baby instantly stopped crying.

It was so shocking that Arthur even turned around, finally snapped out of his self-depreciating trance when his brother's sobs stopped. The baby was still fussy, and clearly not happy, but he relaxed enough so that he wasn't bursting into tears or whining any longer. He occasionally kicked his feet or hiccuped, but that was only from the hunger. The man in front of them, a complete stranger to all of them except Tino, had stopped the baby they had known for their whole lives from crying.

Arthur cocked his head to the side, finally getting to his feet with Alfred's help. He walked over to his younger brother dazedly, but kept his eyes fixed on the hulking blonde man holding his little brother instead. To their surprise, though, he didn't seem afraid of the man holding his little brother, or bothered by him. In fact, he looked like he trusted him. "I know you," Arthur said, pointing a finger up at the taller man. "I've seen you a couple of times with my father."

The man seemed to think about this for a while, and when it finally struck him his eyes lit up. "Kirkland," the man said slowly. "I should have recognized the name."

Arthur laughed, "yeah," he seemed to be relaxing a little. "The gentle giant," Arthur said, "that's what my father said to me."

Berwald himself let out a little chuckle, "my name is Berwald." After saying this Berwald leaned down and readied himself to hand the baby over to Arthur.

Alfred watched the scene carefully.

Arthur shook his head when the man tried to hand him his baby brother, holding his hands up in front of his chest protectively. "No, no, that's OK," Arthur said. "He seems to be taking quite well to you, and I'd like to check on Tino…"

Alfred's forehead creased in confusion, "that's OK, Arthur," Alfred said from where he stood beside Tino. "He's fine right now."

Tino gave a thumb up to indicate that it was true, his impending asthma attack was fading.

Arthur looked like a cornered animal; everyone's eyes were on him. "Really, not right now," he lied. "I'm still a little wobbly from earlier, it's probably best if someone else holds him right now."

The others nodded in agreement. They didn't seem to notice Arthur's unwillingness to hold his brother like Alfred noticed. He made it a point to remember to ask him about it after everything was sorted out. He needed to know why Arthur was so hung up on not holding his little brother, after all, at some point he may need to hold him.

There was no time for weird hang ups.

"Alright," Berwald said, holding the baby back up to his chest carefully as he watched the English boy take a seat on the floor next to Tino, who was now sitting upright.

Tino looked at Arthur with a large smile plastered on his face despite his obvious pain. "Well, even if it meant getting shot, I'm glad I found you."

Arthur looked at him with a sad expression on his face before smiling brightly as laughter bubbled in his chest. "I can't believe you can't sit there like that and smile, after all that rubbish." The young Englishman shook his head in disbelief at his fried, "you always were an airhead, Tino."

"Hey," Tino cried playfully.

 

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After pawing through the storage closet with all the ammo, the group of survivors had no problem finding duffel bags for their weapons. And, assuming that they had a large trek in front of them, they grabbed as many weapons and as many boxes of ammo as they could all carry. It wasn't much, but it was definitely enough to keep them safe until they could find a place to stock up again. If Tino was on his feet the next time they stocked up, they would probably be able to carry even more.

"Baby food," Tino said as soon as they had completely packed up. "That's what we came here for in the first place."

Arthur nodded his head as he began walking toward the back, where he remembered the baby food stacked high on the walls. He hadn't had to make many runs for the baby because he wasn't around much due to his busy university life. But, when Peter would come over for visits, Arthur usually had to make a run out to the super market beforehand. Arthur felt a painful twist in his gut at the memory of those days, he felt as if they would never return.

"How will we do this, though?" Tino asked, reaching his arm up for a can of powdered milk. He tossed the can back and forth between his left and right hand, regarding the can as if it were something mysterious. "It's powdered, and we don't have any heat, a bottle, or water for that matter…" Tino looked up from the can toward Arthur, regarding Arthur as if he had all the answers.

"I don't know," Arthur said truthfully, turning his gaze away from Tino's to examine the various brands of powdered baby formula. "Maybe we could give him real milk," Arthur scratched the back of his head. "I don't think he can't take solids yet, though." Arthur wanted to curse at his own lack of knowledge. This was his baby brother and he didn't even know how to feed him properly.

"You need to wean him off of the formula," Fracis said in a matter-of-face tone. "He's old enough for real milk for certain, and solids won't kill him." Francis grabbed a can of powdered milk off of the shelf despite saying this, and tossed it to Arthur without warning. "He might get constipated, or get a bad stomach ache, but he'll grow accustomed to it."

"I'd like to save my brother the pain, thank you," Arthur said irritably.

"Well, yes," Francis said, rolling his eyes at the young Englishman, "but would you rather have him starve? We don't exactly have the luxuries to be choosing what kind of food and what kind of milk he likes. We need to work with what we have, and I just told you your best options."

"But, soft food…"

"We can't keep relying on soft foods, Arthur," Francis said. "If this continues, he's going to need to learn how to adapt and eat like us," Francis sighed. "As harsh as that sounds, it's our best bet."

Arthur wanted to argue with the man, ask him how he would know, but he knew it wouldn't do him any good. He knew that the irritating Frenchman was right in his thinking; they couldn't continue to rely on Gerber products and the likes to keep the baby nourished. If things kept getting bad, they wouldn't be able to carelessly go out in search of baby food. "You're right," Arthur finally said, angry that he had to admit it to his nuisance of a friend.

"Aren't I always?" Francis quipped, laughing as he walked away from the group toward the refrigerator. "Keep the powdered stuff though; you never know when that might come in handy." Francis opened one of the glass doors, letting loose an abundance of cold air. "Plus, real milk only lasts for so long. Especially in the heat."

Arthur shivered and hugged his arms to his chest at the onslaught of cold air, cold air that seemed to be getting worse and worse by the second. "Does anyone find it's getting really cold?"

"I just opened the refrigerator," Francis said as he let the glass door swing back into place when he had decided on a few cartons of milk. "Not to mention we are next to the meat locker."

"Y-Yeah," Arthur said, still confused as the chill refused to disappear, "I guess you're right."

Francis hugged the milk to his chest as he trudged toward the group, laughing when Peter reached up and grabbed for one of the cartons in his arms.

"Help," the baby said, smiling brightly up at Francis from Matthew's arms.

"You're such a sweet little boy," Francis said as he ruffled the small boy's hair. "You're so much nicer than your mean older brother."

The baby huffed out a laugh.

Francis stopped, when the baby laughed, he finally realized something was wrong. The air was much colder, even though they had walked away from the cold of the refrigerator. It was so cold that when the baby laughed, his breath billowed out around him like a fluffy cloud. It was colder than it was before, much colder.

Something came crashing down from inside the meat locker, causing them to all look in the direction of the plastic sheathed doorway. After the crash, various squelching sounds filled the air. It sounded something like meat being slapped onto a wet cutting board, but what would normally be an appetizing sound, was a sound that struck fear into them.

A loud, choking sound cut through the air, and simultaneously brought their mind toward insanity.

Arthur turned around slowly, eyes wide as he regarded his companions, "run."

The whispered word had them all charging down the aisle like wild animals, gasping and panting and cursing the store for being so large. As they weaved through the long aisles they all felt their hearts drop at the sound of other feet, probably dozens of other feet, joining theirs as they slapped against the pavement in retreat.

"Arthur, hurry," Alfred said, grabbing the slighter man by the wrist and dragging him behind him. "Don't slow down."

When they finally saw the sweet rays of light cutting in through the glassed entrance doors, they all breathed a sigh of relief. Their breaths were still bated, however, as they realized they could only run for so far in such a big group. If anything, they would only draw more attention to themselves. They also had a small child, and a wounded man with them. They wouldn't be able to get far.

"A car," Alfred said, as if sensing the thoughts running through Arthur's mind. "I can hijack a car."

"What?" Arthur asked, squinting his eyes against the sun as they approached the wide glass doors.

"My training's finally going to use," Alfred breathlessly chuckled, "what do you know?"

Alfred gripped Arthur's wrists tighter as he dragged him up to the front, in front of everyone else. "We need to do this quick," Alfred said, they were only a few feet away from the heavy glass doors. "I need some of you to hold these doors closed so those things can't get out."

"Are you fucking crazy," Francis asked with his mouth down-turned as he took in a deep gasping breath of air. "What would be the purpose of that?"

"I'm going to wire a car," Alfred said as he pushed the glass doors open. Alfred grabbed Peter out of Matthew's arms before he could even protest. "Arthur, grab Tino, and Berwald," he regarded the tall brutish man carefully. "Prove yourself to me man," he laughed. "Help those two weaklings hold those doors shut!"

Berwald silently put Tino on the ground next to the Englishman, watching carefully as he hobbled to Arthur's side. He watched their retreating backs for a moment before he walked toward the glass doors, getting prepared to help the two other boys brace it. "Careful," Berwald said simply, regarding the two smaller men beside him.

They nodded, faces pallid from fear.

Alfred, on the other hand, was dealing with his own fears. He didn't know how long it would take him to wire a car, because he had only ever done it with a large hummer. He saw none of those in sight. The car he had chosen was a gasoline purple mini-van, something just barely big enough to hold the entire group.

Alfred reached into his duffel bag quickly and pulled a gun out of the bag with his free hand.

"Wait," Arthur said, hobbling up to him with Tino's arm slung around his shoulders.

Before Arthur could say any more Alfred turned the gun around and smashed the window in with the butt of the gun. The glass caved and Alfred reached in easily, snapping the lock up on the drivers side and jumping in. He wasted no time as he leaned across and snapped the lock up on the passenger side door, beckoning for the Englishman to get in on the other side with him.

Arthur was silently surprised at his friend's strength. He had been able to smash the glass with one arm, while cradling a baby in the other. He watched Alfred work with a strange sense of pride in him after he had piled himself and Tino into the passenger side. Arthur's bangs were stuck to his head with sweat, he looked a mess, but Arthur supposed he looked no better.

"Hurry up, guys!" Francis desperately called from where he stood in front of the glass doors. When Arthur squinted through his light lashes, he could see the people piling up on the other side of the door. Their strength wouldn't be able to hold them for very long.

"I'm not trying to panic you, Al, but you really need to hurry it up!" Arthur said to the ash blonde man who was currently leaned under the dashboard of the car.

"I am," Alfred said. "Trust me, I'm going as fast as I can." Alfred could feel the stress coming from both Arthur and Tino, while the baby on his lap was completely oblivious to their dire situation. He felt perspiration travel down the side of his face despite the somewhat frigid afternoon. There was so much pressure weighing on him that he felt like he would pass out.

The van wasn't starting, but Alfred was foreseen this problem. He knew that he wouldn't be able to get it right on the first try, that was why he asked the men to stand in front of the doors, after all. He looked up briefly to see them struggling with the doors, even the heavy and powerful Berwald was struggling to keep the doors secured.

He cursed as he untangled the wires, finding it difficult to make the colours and print out in the dark of the dashboard. He brought two more out and tangled the copper together, silently praying for the sound of the engine roaring to life.

When it did, he almost cheered out loud.

He heard Arthur sigh in relief from next to him, and he felt Tino clap him on the shoulder gratefully. "Good job, Alfred."

Arthur smiled back at the young blonde man, "it's my duty, man, I do owe you one after that bullet."

Alfred looked up as he felt the car's weight shift, only to see Arthur leaning out of the window. "Get away from the doors, he's got it running," Alfred cried out into the cool afternoon air. In response to this, Alfred revved up the engine and drove toward them.

"Fucking run," Alfred said, hardly able to believe that they had been able to hold back so many people. If not for Berwald, Alfred was sure that they wouldn't have made it halfway down the street. He wouldn't admit it to the man, however.

The three men all looked at each other and silently nodded, Francis began counting out loud. "Three," the door jostled heavily behind them. "Two," the glass creaked. "One," he cried with a sense of finality.

All three of them bounded from their position and into the open van door, just as the doors swung open with heavy force behind them. All three of them somehow managed to squeeze themselves in through the sliding door of the van, and close it before one of the creatures could even think about touching it.

Alfred drove away, and they all let out a collective sigh of relief.

 

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It was almost nightfall and they were still on the road, driving past police station after police station before giving up completely. It was very clear that whatever was going on had affected everyone, not just their quaint little neighbourhood.

"Everyone alright back there," Alfred asked, looking over his shoulder at the other passengers.

"We're fine," Berwald said. Everyone else hummed in agreement, completely played out from the day's events.

The cabin of the car grew painfully quiet as the minutes ticked by. Arthur had fallen asleep with his head pressed against the window, Tino was resting his head against Berwald's shoulder, Matthew was quietly playing with the baby, and Francis was snoring away with his chin pressed into his chest.

The sun had completely descended in the sky, and Alfred felt his eyes growing weary. Because of this, he slowed the pace of the car down, not wanting to hit any unexpected turns or bumps in the road. He also didn't want to jostle his sleeping passengers.

They were closing in on intersection when Alfred made his second terrible decision of the day. Matthew had simply dropped his duffle onto the ground, and it made a slight thumping noise. Alfred turned his head to see what had caused the sound, thinking that taking his already weary eyes off of the seemingly bare road would be fine for a short moment.

He was wrong.

When he turned back, headlights were bearing down on him. There was no way for either car to stop or take a quick turn.

Alfred didn't even have time to tell his friends to brace themselves before the cars slammed into each other head-on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter I have planned is something different, but I think you guys will appreciate it. Why? Because Russia and China are going to be making their first appearance. Don't get confused, though, because they won't be showing up with the group. Russia and China's first few chapters are going to be set in the past, a few months before everything starts going crazy.
> 
> These two guys are going to be playing key roles in this story, and they're also going to help explain everything that happened.
> 
> Thanks for reading! : )


	10. Russian Rìzhì

_Ivan Braginski  
Monday, March 18th, 2014_

_I don't know what to say about today's events. I don't even know if I would be able to write it down if I wanted._

_I feel so sick._

_I can't believe the U.N. would even consider something so cruel._

_Yao said he was going to try to stop this, but how could he do anything? It is true that holding the title of General of the Army grants you some pull, but certainly not enough to stop something that was officially voted on in the United Nations. We are nothing but chess pieces in the eyes of the world government._

_I won't lie and say that I'm not scared about it._

_The only thing we were told was that this project was that this project was already in the beginning stages. We were told nothing about when it will be implemented, or when it will be tested. For all I know, I could go outside tomorrow and find all of my neighbours dead on the side walk._

_Who knows, maybe even tonight when I go for a walk I'll find a dead child and its mother lying in a ditch._

_I don't think I could stomach that kind of sight._

_Tomorrow I will make an attempt to contact the President. Maybe if Yao and I both make a complaint to our leaders together, they will listen._

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_Ivan Braginski  
Wednesday, March 20th, 2014_

_I should have known that my words would mean nothing. Even with the president's ears and attention, I was answered with nothing but an absent wave and a yell._

_I almost lost my job, but at this point, I don't even know if I want it. I don't know if I want to die with my fellow countrymen, or if I want to watch from a safe distance with my president and my soldiers._

_Both are cruel, and both are choices I would rather not make._

_Do I sit idly by, or do I take action and get knocked back on my feet like Yao?_

_What am I supposed to do?_

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_Ivan Braginski  
Thursday, March 21st, 2014_

_I was informed that trials will start tomorrow evening. They have pulled various wanderers and homeless people off of the road to test their weapon. They chose these people because they knew that they would leave no trace; that nobody would go looking for them._

_They would disappear, and no one would care nor notice._

_I notice, but I wish I couldn't._

_Why, as a soldier, am I being forced to watch this weapon be implemented? How is this fair, I am a man who signed his life away to protecting the people of his country, why am I being forced to watch as they are killed like filthy animals? Shouldn't the president know that this is exactly what I stand against as a soldier?_

_I keep hearing the same excuse from everyone, even some of my own soldiers._

_"The world is over-populated, we're killing the Earth and ourselves."_

_My response is always the same, "the Earth adapts, so do we."_

_Of course they don't listen to me, when have they ever? The president and his appointed soldiers have always been defiant._

_I will watch the trials tomorrow._

_God help me._

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Ivan walked into the St. Petersburg Hospital on legs that felt as heavy as lead. This was his body's way of telling him that it didn't want to go, that it didn't want to be around when the trials began. His ears turned red and his skin boiled, even the blood coursing through his veins wanted to get away from the hospital.

Ivan steeled himself despite this rising fear; he couldn't show weakness.

His soldiers saluted him when he walked into the long abandoned hospital, and he nodded in turn. The Chinese soldiers, however, only marked him with murderous intent; their eyes carefully calculating every one of his moves.

It was always this way.

Along with the daily stress of upholding the title of General of the Army, he needed to remain as stoic as possible in the face of his soldiers, and other countries soldiers. He couldn't show emotion, for if he did, any other military force would see this as an immediate weakness. So, as Ivan approached Yao, he had to greet his long-time friend with an all too familiar solemn nod. If he even cracked a smile, Yao's soldiers would jump into action.

Yao himself was under the same pressures, bowing his head nonchalantly in response to Ivan's short nod.

"Are you prepared for the trials?" Yao asked. "Have you signed the proper forms?" Yao's voice was cold and emotionless, the polar opposite of what he was when he and Ivan were alone on their exchange trip in university.

That was long ago, though. Those memories faded, along with the almost unbreakable friendship he and Yao used to hold. Now most of their conversations were formal and quick. They couldn't be seen communicating more than necessary or they would be reprimanded by their leaders.

Ivan had grown used to this new Yao, however. He was so used to it that he barely remembered his old friend's true personality.

Ivan nodded quickly in response to Yao's question, "yes."

"Good," Yao said, "follow me."

With a short nod Ivan followed close beside Yao, growing more and more upset as they approached the newly constructed testing facilities.

"I'm frightened," Yao said with a trembling voice as they grew closer to their destination. Despite his face showing no outward signs of distress, his voice made it very clear that he was deeply disturbed. It made Ivan absently wonder if he was as good at hiding his emotions as Yao.

Ivan nodded, as if responding to something Yao had asked him. "I am too."

Very briefly a flicker of fear flashed across Yao's features, the expression flitted across his smooth skin so quickly that for a moment Ivan wondered if he had really seen it. Despite not knowing, Ivan was about to open his mouth to comfort his friend, but was stopped short when they came to a halt in front of two large metal doors.

A loud click, followed by blaring static, caused Ivan's words of comfort to stop dead in his throat.

"General Ivan Braginski and General Yao Wang," a voice blatted through the adjacent cameras. "I'm glad you've come."

Yao and Ivan both gave a guarded nod at the cameras, waiting impatiently for their instructions. The speakers were silent for a long time, leaving Yao and Ivan to stew in their own fearful thoughts.

They were left in silence for what felt like hours before the voice spoke again.

"Step through the doors," the voice caught Yao and Ivan off guard, and they both jumped at the static-ridden voice. Yao and Ivan both chanced one look at each other before they pushed through the heavy metal doors as instructed. The two men walked through the doors with as much confidence as they could muster, hoping that their pallid and sweat sheened skin would not give them away to their leaders or the soldiers in the room. The door creaked on its hinges as they pushed it open.

The door was so heavy that it took the both of them to open it.

This was Ivan and Yao's first warning that something was wrong.

However, before Ivan could even consider turning back and demanding answers, the heavy doors swung shut behind, followed by a loud click.

The room they were in was dark, and the air was cold and clammy. Something was wrong, and they both felt it.

"To be a soldier means to serve one's country, correct?" A familiar nasally voice called through the speakers and cameras surrounding the room. "To serve one's country is to respect your given orders, correct?"

Ivan and Yao couldn't answer, they wouldn't answer. They both knew what this was as soon as the metal doors sealed shut behind them. They knew that their fate was sealed with it.

"Not only have the both of you questioned our judgement, but you have committed a crime on par with treason." The voice was quiet for a moment, but the heavy static coming from the speakers remained, indicating that the person speaking was not yet done. "In a time so dire, Generals, why make it a point to defy orders?" The person on the other end of the speakers let out a roaring laugh, "By God, you were given the chance to escape a cruel death! What made the both of you become such bleeding hearts?"

"To be a soldier is to defend one's country, that is correct," Ivan finally said. "And by defying your orders, by questioning your judgement, we were protecting our countries."

The voice on the other end, that was previously cackling and muttering about their stupidity, became completely silent. The static disappeared, the voice stopped, and the room became completely still. Nothing but the cold chill and the cameras tracking their every move was there to keep Yao and Ivan company.

Well, that was what they thought.

A loud shot tore through the silence, causing both Ivan and Yao to jump into a defensive stance. As soon as the first shot rang through the air, they knew what was happening.

They were going to be subdued and used as test subjects, and their own soldiers were going to hunt them down and collect them. Ivan gritted his teeth, trying to force his eyes into adjusting to the inky darkness surrounding them.

"Not on my watch," Yao said, as if thinking the same thing Ivan was. He hunkered down and pulled a thick switch blade out of his low-rise boot. "They should have known I wouldn't drop all of my weapons," Yao gritted out. "I knew something was wrong, right from the beginning." Yao flicked the switch blade open and held it out in front of his chest.

"They're going to use us as experiments," Ivan laughed through a heavy frown. "I should have seen this coming as soon as we were reprimanded. I knew they forgave us too easily."

They pressed their backs together, keeping each other guarded as they tried to see through the dense shadows of the room. The footsteps were getting increasingly louder as their own soldiers advanced on them.

"They're surrounding us," Yao whispered harshly, back pressing harder in Ivan's own unconsciously. "What do we do?"

Ivan considered their options, and quickly found that they didn't really have any to take. It was either surrender and beg for forgiveness, or put up a fight and save face in front of their soldiers. With this in mind, Ivan made a quick decision.

"We show the enemy no fear, and we stand our ground," Ivan mustered a smile despite his swelling fear. "We show them what a true soldier is."

He could almost feel Yao's smile at his statement. He could see the smile gracing his lips despite not even being able to see him. "That's a great idea, my old friend."

The footsteps continued to grow closer and closer, and hours seemed to pass before they stopped dead in front of Yao and Ivan. Even with them so close, it was hard to make them out in the darkness. But they were there, no doubt, armed and ready to attack.

"Draw not your bow till your arrow is fixed," Ivan whispered to he, and Yao's, former soldiers.

"What are yo-"

The soldier that seemed to be heading the group suddenly collapsed to the floor with a loud thud, causing the other soldiers to look around in confusion. Ivan himself could feel the fear billowing off of them in thick waves. He didn't even need to see their faces to know when they were afraid. He had become adept over the years at sensing the mood of his soldiers. He felt them as a collective.

"You need to remember that we trained you," Yao said from where he was now standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Ivan.

The soldiers didn't respond, they simply kept their guns pointed at them, eyeing them cautiously from behind the heavy barrels.

"We know everything you're planning," Ivan said, smiling at his soldiers in a piteous fashion. "We know all of your manoeuvres and battle strategies." Ivan bit back a laugh, "we also know that you wouldn't kill us, or rather, that you can't."

"Don't be cocky," one of the Chinese soldiers called out from behind the group. "We could rip you limb from limb if we so wished, you're nothing but men, just like us!"

"Are we?" Yao asked with a defiant lilt in his normally soft voice. "Because I'm pretty sure I just killed your leader without any of you even seeing me attack him."

The soldiers backed up, unable to figure out what to do. They couldn't understand their previous Generals pathetic attempts. They were completely cornered, there was no way out, and there was no way two unarmed men could fight off thirty armed soldiers. No matter how strong they were, a bullet could take them down just as fast as it could take down any other man. These two were clearly only delaying the inevitable.

"The experiments have already started," another voice called from the back, this time it was one of Ivan's soldiers. "In fact, they started yesterday night," the soldier laughed. "You can go and check on their dead bodies in the lab if you want, in fact, we'll personally escort you there and you can even join them if you so wish!" The soldier's boots clicked against the ground as he rocked back on his heels in laughter, "if you think you can escape here and help, you're dead wrong."

Ivan wilted on the inside at this statement, and so did Yao, but they kept their faces as stoic as before. Just as Ivan had come to terms with a long time ago, showing weakness would only end up getting them killed by their own soldiers. Despite not being able to stop the trials, they could at least try to help in some way. If they surrendered now, what kind of honour would that hold?

"Why do you endorse this," Ivan asked through his stewing rage, "why would you endorse the deaths of millions of innocent people?"

The crowd was silent.

"And please, before you give me some crap about over population, think about what you're allowing." Ivan stomped one foot and bit his lip to hold back the anger that was now almost boiling over the lid. "These are innocent people, these are children, these are elderly people, these are friends of our families!"

"Enough," one of the soldiers cried out, shooting a bullet into the floor in front of Ivan in warning.

This didn't stop Ivan, however.

"But it doesn't matter to any of you, does it? As long as your family is safe, and as long as you're safe, it doesn't matter!" Ivan gnashed his teeth as he took in all of his soldiers, all of his soldiers that had betrayed him and their country. The soldiers he had trained to be the strongest of the strong, the soldiers that he had trained to protect the people of their country, were now doing the exact opposite of his training. It was a shame, and an embarrassment to he and the people of his country.

"You're not real soldiers," Ivan said, digging his heels into the ground. "You're nothing but embarrassments, the whole lot of you!"

This clearly jabbed the soldiers the wrong way as they all began to react negatively to what was said about them. Gunfire roared through the air, angry protests filled the empty room, and enraged outcries caused Yao and Ivan's ears to ring. Ivan, pleased with the impact of his words, turned his back on his soldiers, followed by Yao doing the same. This was the ultimate insult to a soldier, and it was well deserved. This was all Yao and Ivan needed before their lives were ended. They needed to remind their soldiers of the wrong they were doing. And whether that stopped them or not, it surely got them thinking. It surely caused a great deal or damage to their pride. Their own Generals had openly told them that they were ashamed of them, it was the last thing a soldier ever wanted to hear from a superior, ex-General or not.

After the uproar, a heavy silence filled the clammy air.

Ivan and Yao both waited for impact. They waited for the feel of the butt of a gun slamming into the back of their heads, or for the burning feel of a bullet tearing through them, but it never came. This was because the soldiers didn't even have a chance to strike at their Generals.

A shrill scream rang through the air, followed by a denizen more as light began to filter into the cold room. Both Yao and Ivan turned back to the soldiers, and were shocked at what they were seeing. Their soldiers, the ones that were going to kill them, were being eaten by other people. These other people clearly weren't soldiers, and their exposed skin was cold and blue looking. Some of them wore hospital robes, but others were completely unclothed.

"Are these…" Yao swallowed hard as he took in the scene in front of him, backing away slowly. "Are these the test patients?"

Ivan couldn't answer; he could only watch as one of his soldiers had his leg rended from his body with nothing more than brute strength.

Yao looked over at the now open door, the door that seemed to have been broken down with ease. "I don't know what they are; I don't want to know, but I'm sure we need to leave now." Yao took off at a run toward the opened doors, grabbing Ivan by the end of his sleeve and dragging him off toward the blinding light.

Ivan stumbled behind Yao clumsily, and at one instance almost pulled Yao to the floor. He just couldn't keep his eyes off of their soldiers being eaten alive. It was all too surreal.

It had all happened too fast.

"Ivan, this is no time to be cracking," Yao gripped his friend's sleeve tighter and yanked. "You're a soldier, act like one!"

This finally snapped Ivan out of it. He turned his head away from the scene and back to the task at hand. Yao was right; pointlessly dwelling on something was going to get them nowhere. They needed to leave, they needed to run, and they needed to do it quickly. There was no use in lagging behind to watch; they had no weapons so they couldn't help their ex-soldiers. And, all things considered, even the soldiers themselves couldn't defend themselves, and they were armed to the hilt.

When they finally reached the door, both of them chose not to spare one last look back at their soldiers. They were both feeling extreme guilt because of the fact that they had called their soldiers worthless right before their gruesome deaths. They hadn't meant for something so cruel and inhumane to happen to them.

"If I would have known..." Ivan tried to continue what he was saying, but found that he couldn't. There was nothing stopping him but his own guilt.

Yao didn't comment on what he said, and whether he heard Ivan or not was to question. Yao himself was probably feeling guilt just as heavy as Ivan. These were their soldiers, after all, former or not. They had still trained their elites from the very day they had been deemed above average in their separate were like family to them, despite all of their individual faults.

"We need to close the doors," Yao shouted at Ivan as he forced on the heavy, metal plated doors, "we can't risk those things getting out!"

Ivan, who was feeling his consciousness slowly dwindling, joined Yao in closing the double doors. He had been trained from childhood to react to these situations accordingly, and yet he still hadn't completely grasped the training. He was still feeling sick, his head was still ringing, and he felt like running away and leaving everything behind to collapse in a heap and give up. He was becoming the very thing that he was trained not to be.

As soon as the doors were closed, Ivan and Yao both expected to hear the familiar sound of the speakers coming to life to mock them. They expected to be laughed at and ridiculed. However, the speakers never turned on, and they were not joined by the voice. They stood in a silent hallway with the sound of their former soldiers being brutally massacred filtering in through the closed door as background noise.

They panted and heaved when the reality of their situation finally set in. The panting itself was not from over-exertion but from the fear and anger coursing through their veins.

"Were those the test subjects?" Yao asked through a pant.

"I think so," Ivan said, eyeing his bloodied pants with a scowl.

"How did they escape?"

Ivan had started thinking about this as soon as the subjects had entered the room and attacked their soldiers. The entire place would have been guarded to the hilt, considering it was a top secret weapon being tested out. Being top secret it meant that nothing would be allowed in, or out, of the base. There was no way some homeless people, who were completely unarmed and nude, would be able to overthrow a horde of government agents. Something was wrong, something even worse than Ivan and Yao could have imagined.

"Something went wrong in the trials," Ivan said.

"You heard what your soldier said, Ivan," Yao said, finally gaining some of his breath back. "The trials happened yesterday."

"I know that, but what if the drug only started taking effect today, what if the scientists implementing the drug forgot something?"

"They were government hired, Ivan, they were the best of the world's scientists. There was no room for mistakes."

"Anyone can make mistakes." Ivan said, haphazardly tucking a loose lock of white-blonde hair behind his ear.

"I don-"

Something banged on the door behind them with such incredible force that the both of them were forced to step away. They turned around to look at the damage, and were shocked at what they saw.

The double doors, made out of solid steel, were being bent by whatever was behind it. The two Generals, who were already incredibly strong in their own rights, had a hard time just moving the doors with both of their strength combined. These doors were meant to be impenetrable. Whatever was on the other side of the doors was much stronger than anything they had ever seen.

"We need to go," Yao said, backing away from the doors that already looked close to collapsing. "We need to go, now!"

Just as Yao and Ivan turned their backs on the metal doors, they collapsed in on themselves.

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Ivan woke up every morning with the acceptance that soon he would be taking his soldiers to war. He accepted the fact that the world had been in crisis for a long time, and that soon all the tensions between the countries would escalate to the point where their issues with each other would be non-negotiable. He felt like he was prepared for anything, and everything, that would be thrown at him during a war. He expected to fight with China, and accepted the fact that someday he would have to kill Yao.

He expected to fight with America about oil, an he expected to fight with the whole of Asia about nuclear weapons. He had woken up every morning expecting to fight with many countries. Ivan was sure that he had gone over every possible scenario.

This, however, was a scenario that he had never even considered.

They weren't in war with other nations, and they were not being attacked over any oil crises or nuclear power. They were in a war with people who had somehow attained superhuman strength from a medicine that was initially meant to kill them. These people no longer seemed to have any human traits, they seemed only bent on torture and murder.

He was not prepared for this.

"There are helicopters on the roof," Yao said. "President Li isn't exactly inconspicuous when entering other countries."

Ivan found it in himself to laugh, even though they were currently heel to toe with a group of super-humans. They were lucky for the Chinese President's recklessness, because they would be stuck if not for the helicopters on the roof.

"We can't take the elevators," Yao said. "They're too close behind us for us to take that kind of a chance."

Ivan nodded his head, chancing a look over his shoulder to see how close the people behind them were.

Too close for comfort, that was for sure.

"There should be a set of stairs coming up around the next corner, they should lead us to the top," Yao said, scaling the walls for a sign.

They ran for what seemed like hours before they finally came up to a sign that boldly told them to turn left for the stairwell. They were happy, for they felt like if they had to run any longer through the facility they would have passed out from exhaustion.

In all of his years of heavy training, Ivan had never been through such a harsh workout. Of course, he had never been chased down by mutants and former soldiers like a fox during the hunt.

They ripped the door open without looking back, closed it behind them with a heavy bang, and locked it. It wouldn't hold the creatures behind them for very long, but a little delay would be better than nothing. And, considering they were almost completely out of breath, a short delay would do their aching bodies a world of good.

Ivan vowed that if he got out of the facility alive, he would never enter another large building again. At least, not without proper weapons.

As they ran up the stairs, Yao began speaking again. "If we get to the American Embassy we can tell them something went wrong with the trials. If we're lucky, we'll be able to stop them before they give their trials the go ahead. We're also going to need all the help we can get over here."

Ivan huffed through his teeth, nodding at Yao's suggestion. The more lives they could save, the better.

Just as Ivan was about to open his mouth, the door to the stairwell was wrenched open, the lock completely bending under the sheer power of the creatures outside. Yao and Ivan were lucky for the sole fact that they were already 5 flights of stairs ahead of the creatures. If they kept their pace, they would be able to get to the roof without any problems.

"The keys though," Ivan said, picking up his pace to match Yao's. "We're going to need the keys to access the helicopters."

"You truly believe I didn't think that through before suggesting we go up the stairs where we could be cornered?" Yao laughed, "you underestimate me, Ivan," he huffed as he pulled a set of keys out of his pocket, jingling them in front of Ivan's worried face. "I don't go anywhere unprepared."

"Your president would have you murdered for doing such a thing," Ivan said, eyes wide as he examined the keys.

"I knew nothing would be the same after this, Ivan." Yao looked over his shoulder, "you must have felt like there was something wrong with this too?"

"Of course," Ivan said, slightly flushed at having been so naïve. "I just didn't expect anything on this level."

"Not everything can be solved with brute strength, my friend."

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They reached the eight floor with little of their breath left, and the creatures from before hot on their heels. They clearly weren't going to give up until they had Ivan and Yao in their clutches. And Yao and Ivan wanted anything but that.

"There, the door to the top floor," Yao said through a wheeze. "As soon as we get through, we need to lock it and pile everything we can in front of it. We can't let anything get through!"

"Alright," Ivan said, balling his hands into fists as he prepared for the impact of the door. He wasn't going to let those creatures get him and Yao, not after everything they had been through. They needed to go out and tell the world about what was happening, they couldn't let anything bad happen to the rest of the world.

Asia was already in crisis because of their leaders foolish mistakes.

What they didn't expect was their two Presidents to be waiting for them on the other side of the door. Sitting down at their adjacent desks like nothing was wrong. The door shut behind them, and a heavy latch was dropped to reinforce it.

Nothing could get through these doors.

"We're glad you made it," Russia's President, Smirnov, said with a sense of satisfaction. "We didn't doubt either of you." China's president nodded his head in agreement as he folded his gloved hands in his lap.

"We expected nothing less."

Ivan gritted his teeth and Yao backed into the door, silently wondering if feeding himself to the monsters would have been a better idea. But, he wasn't worried. The reason for this was the fact that he could see the fear in the eyes of both Presidents. This weapon, this weapon that they suggested so adamantly, didn't turn out the way they intended it to be.

"We need to get out of here," Ivan shouted. "Those things are much stronger than you think they are."

"We know how strong they are," President Smirnov chuckled. "We created them, after all."

"No you didn't," Yao scoffed. "You know yourselves that this was intended to kill them, not make them stronger. Do you take us for fools?"

President Li scowled at his General's smart mouth, "you never knew when to keep quiet, Yao." He shook his head, "I knew making you the General of the Army was the biggest mistake I've ever made."

"The bigge-"

"Enough!" President Smirnov stood up from where he sat; slamming his hands down on his desk with so much force the floor shook.

Yao, about to speak out in defiance again, stopped when he felt a cold steel press into his back. If he spoke out of line again, they would shoot him.

"You're both lucky that this happened," President Smirnov spit through his clenched teeth. "We would have had you killed if we didn't need your expertise."

Ivan closed his eyes and let out a small chuckle, only to open them up again to meet the president's eyes in a defiant glare. "You might as well kill me now, because I will not help you kill innocent people." Ivan kept his eyes on his president's, "the world needs to know about this before it's too late."

President Li laughed raucously, throwing his head back to laugh at the ceiling. When the laughter died, however, he met Ivan's eyes in a harsh glare. "You're both idiots to believe that we haven't already finished the tests."

"That means…" Yao swallowed, his eyes were on the crisp white clouds outside. He was afraid to see what everything looked like on ground level. Judging by how immediate the presidents were being, it meant that the trials had gone horribly wrong. That these trials affected more than just the patients in facility.

This meant that more of them had escaped the facility, only to wreak havoc on the rest of St. Petersburg.

"It means that the whole world is now in crisis, and that we need your help more than ever."

Ivan and Yao were both stuck for what to say, or how to answer. If they helped, that would mean they were doing their Presidents bidding. But, of course, with their Presidents resources, they would be allowed to help a lot of innocent people. If they chose not to help their Presidents or do their bidding, they were just as helpless as the people on the streets.

"I know you're going to help us," Smirnov stated. "You're soldiers; you wouldn't let innocent people die."

Ivan was across the room so fast that the guards in the room couldn't stop him. He grabbed Smirnov by the lapels of his uniform and brought him to eye level. "I was trying to stop this from happening, and you didn't listen. It's your fault that all these innocent people are suffering. You're nothing but scum, Vladimir Smirnov."

The barrel of a gun pressed into Ivan's back, causing Ivan to jolt from the cold. A voice harshly told him to put the president down, or risk being shot.

Ivan did so, letting the man fall to a heap on the floor.

"I'll help you, but it's not for you. I'll help you to help the innocent people of my country. But, you must supply me with whatever I need whenever I ask for it."

President Smirnov smiled; a gruesome thing that showed all of his teeth.

Yao nodded, "I agree, but only on the same terms as General Braginski."

President Li stood up from his chair, unleashing a terrifying smile.

"It's the day we've all been preparing for," he said to the room. "It's time for war."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ivan and Yao's story probably isn't going to be continued until a few chapters down the road. I want to get most of the story out before Ivan and Yao find everything out for themselves. I want to keep you guys guessing and putting the stories together by yourselves. It keeps the suspense going!
> 
> And, whew, for some reason I really had a hard time with this chapter. I think it's the fact that I was worried about slandering certain countries while writing it.
> 
> I want to make this clear: I'm not being biased about which countries are better or more just. Do not let the Presidents and Prime Ministers actions in this story reflect on how you think about the real Presidents and Prime Ministers and their actions.
> 
> Fun fact: I started out by using the real names of the Presidents and Prime Ministers, but then changed them right at the end. Instead I used two of the most common Chinese and Russian surnames. I will be doing the same thing for the other world leaders.


	11. Mutation

"You need to stay here," Roderich said as he re-bandaged Heracles' wounded shoulder. "You would only be a burden to the group in your state."

Heracles opened his mouth to protest, but winced when Roderich pulled the gauze tight around his shoulder to secure it. Roderich was right; he wouldn't be of much help to their cause with his injury. He would be better off watching over them and directing them as they approached the hospital. "You're right," he said as Roderich finished taping the gauze down.

"Of course I am," Roderich said.

Gilbert laughed from where he leaned against the window; his figure blocking the sun and casting a long shadow on the room.

"What's so funny?" Roderich asked, turning on the spot to sneer at Gilbert.

"You shouldn't come with us either."

"Are you insane?" Roderich asked, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline at the suggestion. "I'm just as much of a help as anyone else."

"You won't be able to keep your mind clear with Elizaveta still here," Gilbert said matter-of-factly.

"You're going to have the same pro-"

"No, I'm not," Gilbert chuckled. "Unlike you, my brother and I weren't raised being spoon-fed. We keep our minds on the task at hand, not on our hearts."

Roderich scoffed, "you heard that nurse, at least forty soldiers were taken down in less than two hours."

"And?" Gilbert asked, stepping away from the window and allowing the sun to filter in. "Maybe we're smarter than them."

Roderich rolled his eyes, "it's not about physical strength, Gilbert. These men had weapons, lots of them, and they weren't capable of taking down even a few of those things."

"It's not about weapons or physical strength," Gilbert said, holding the back of his hand against Elizaveta's forehead to check her temperature. He sighed at the sickly warmth emanating from her, it wasn't going down. "It's about intelligence."

"And you think I'm not intelligent?" Roderich laughed, "coming from the alcoholic German, that isn't much of an insult…"

"I wasn't talking about generic intelligence, Roderich," Gilbert frowned when the name left his mouth. "I'm saying that you're not the kind of intelligent that we need for this."

"And what kind of intelligence is that?" Roderich asked, cocking one hip out to the left as he sized Gilbert up. Gilbert, however, didn't answer and began walking toward the door with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. But, Gilbert was stopped promptly by Roderich covering the door with his body. "Tell me."

Gilbert looked up into Roderich's eyes, smile still present on his face, "what do you want me to tell you?" Gilbert shoved Roderich out of the way, causing him to fall onto the edge of Heracles' bed. "I can tell you that the kind of intelligence we need doesn't require someone that would mock us around every corner. We need to pull together for this, not apart." Gilbert finally left the room, and Roderich didn't stop him.

Roderich sat on the edge of the bed, head hung in between his knees as he considered what Gilbert had said to him.

Was he really that rude? Would his personality really hold the group back?

As he pondered this, he had completely forgotten that Heracles was still awake, and sitting directly behind him, ergo he almost jumped out of his skin when Heracles rested a hand on his shoulder.

"I know you, Roderich," Heracles said calmly. "You may be over-bearing at times, but I know you mean well."

Roderich laughed, still not turning his face away from the floor. However, he lifted one of his hands out of his lap and laid it over Heracles' hand in a silent 'thank you'.

 

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"I'll watch over from the roof," Heracles said as he fished a second radio out of his front pocket. "I'll be of more use if I can tell you where to go, and where not to go."

The rest of the room nodded.

"The same for me," Roderich joined in, surprising everyone in the room. Everyone other than Gilbert, at least.

"Why would you stay behind?" Ludwig asked, eyeing the dark haired man incredulously. "We need all the power we can get."

Roderich, about to answer Ludwig's question with honesty, was cut off by Gilbert.

"He's staying behind because what you just said, brother, is not true," Gilbert stood up from where he was seated across a table. "The more people, the more noise, and the more chance of accidentally leaving someone behind," Gilbert stood beside his brother. "With less people, we could be stealthier."

Roderich cocked his head to the side, wondering why Gilbert hadn't told the group what he had told him. It almost seemed as if Gilbert was trying to protect Roderich's feelings even though he had been the one to hurt them in the first place.

"I suppose you're right," Ludwig said, grasping his chin between thumb and forefinger as he considered what his brother suggested to him. "But what if we were to get cornered? We would need as much help as possible in that kind of situation."

"You heard the Spanish nurse," Gilbert said, shrugging. "Armed soldiers couldn't stop them, with our little group; one person isn't going to even make a dent. If we're cornered by them, that's it, we're done."

"That's scary," Feliciano said, tugging at the hem of his shirt. "I really don't want to get trapped."

"We won't allow ourselves to get trapped," Gilbert said gently to the small Italian. "And I won't let them get you, Feliciano." Gilbert smiled at the boy to reassure him.

"Ok, I trust you!" Feliciano smiled back at him, "if you're like Ludwig, than I believe you."

Gilbert laughed raucously, causing Ludwig to roll his eyes at his older brother's nasally laugh. He wouldn't admit to himself how much he had truly missed hearing it, and how happy it made him.

"So, we're all settled?" Kiku asked, tilting his head to acquire their attention.

"Yes," Ludwig said, taking in all the faces in the room. "Gilbert, Feliciano, Kiku, and I will travel to the hospital, find the surveillance van, and help Feliciano's brother and the nurse escape." He locked eyes with Gilbert for a moment, and then looked back down at his hands. "After that, we will return with both of them - under the guidance of Heracles, of course."

"If we're lucky, we'll be out of there before it gets dark outside."

 

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 _"There's nothing ahead,"_ Heracles said, voice filtering evenly through the radio speakers.

"Alright," Ludwig said, nodding back toward the group to indicate they could keep moving.

They weaved through the dead cars littering the streets, they ran behind buildings, and they hid in the shadows of the trees. Their journey, however, was surprisingly easy; the roads were quiet and nothing stopped their journey. Only a few times they saw the occasional infected straggler wandering around the streets. They were very easily manoeuvred around by the small group.

 _"Now be careful on this road coming up,"_ Heracles voice whispered through the radio. _"It's very out in the open because it leads to the highway, there's not much cover there. But, the good news is, you're almost at the hospital."_

Ludwig nodded and turned to the group, "Heracles said we're coming up to the highway, so we have to be careful. We don't have much cover coming our way."

The group nodded.

"I remember going this way," Feliciano said.

Ludwig smiled sadly, but patted Feliciano on the back gently. "You don't need to think of that time any more, Feliciano. You're brother's alive."

Feliciano frowned, "but I left him," he rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands. "He's going to hate me when he finds out what I did."

"He's not going to hate you, Fel-"

"Look at all he's been through because I made the decision to leave him behind. Wouldn't you hate your brother for doing that to you?"

"Of course not," Ludwig and Gilbert both said at the same time, incredulously.

Feliciano laughed, "I wish I could say Lovino's like you guys," Feliciano looked up at the puffy white clouds melting into the blue sky. "But let's not worry about that right now, we need to get him out first."

Kiku nodded his head, and took the initiative. He walked in front of the group and onto the highway; looking carefully around the bend in the road to be sure nothing was standing there. He glanced around and found two stragglers, unfortunately stumbling around in the middle of the road. "There's two up ahead, and there's no way we can avoid them," Kiku whispered back at the group behind the large oak tree.

Ludwig nodded his head to acknowledge what Kiku had said and brought the radio up to his lips. "Heracles," he whispered. "Can you see the two infected ones on the road?"

The radio was silent for a moment before it blatted to life again, Heracles' voice filtering through easily. _"I knew we would come to this kind of problem eventually,"_ he sighed. _"I can't see them from over the trees; part of the road is blocked from my view."_

"Damn it," Ludwig said, pulling the radio away from his lips. He chewed on the antennae for a moment as he considered what they could do with their situation. They had a abundance of weapons, that was true, but he didn't know how strong the things straggling around were any more They could have gotten stronger, they could have gotten weaker, there was no way to know. And, on the other hand, they had lots of weapons but no guns. The only kind of weapons they had were knives and hatchets.

"We're going to have to take our chances," Gilbert said, standing up from where he was hunkered down beside his brother. "We didn't take these weapons as ornaments, after all." Gilbert looked back at his brother's concerned face, and frowned. "Come on, brother, we can do this," he reached his hand down to help him up.

Ludwig took his hand reluctantly and let his brother help him to his feet. He agreed with Gilbert, even though he didn't want to be in this kind of situation. They had brought weapons for a reason, and there were only two stragglers. If they were lucky, they could even sneak up on them and take them down like that. "You're right," Ludwig said.

Gilbert laughed again, "aren't I always, little brother?"

Ludwig smiled at his brother despite his concern.

"Feliciano," Ludwig asked. "Do you think you can do this?"

Feliciano looked down at the hatchet in his hands with trepidation, but felt himself nodding despite his fear. He wanted to help his brother, and if doing this meant saving his life, then so be it. Feliciano gripped the handle of the hatchet tightly in his hands and met Ludwig's eyes. "Yes, I can do this."

"Good," Ludwig said. "Now follow behind us, but be very quiet. We're going to try to sneak up on them to get the upper hand. If we're lucky, we'll take them by surprise and they won't even have time to react to us being there."

Feliciano hummed in agreement and took to his feet and stood next to Gilbert and Ludwig. "Let's go then."

Ludwig and Gilbert gave each other one last look before they walked out from behind the tree with Kiku and Feliciano following close behind. The stragglers on the street were, so far, facing the opposite direction that the survivors were advancing on, and it seemed like they would make it home free. Gilbert had his knife raised in front of his chest, ready to plunge it into the first infected person currently stumbling down the road.

Ahead of the group, Gilbert quickly advanced on the stragglers and raised his knife even higher, holding it up above his head, clasped tight in both of his hands. But, just as he was about to plunge the knife into one of their heads, the second one turned. Gilbert didn't even have time to react before the creature was on him, teeth snapping and clacking at his face. There was so much strength behind it that it had him on the ground in an instant.

"Shit, Gilbert!" Ludwig cried out, rushing to meet his brother before the second one had time to react.

However, before Ludwig could even make it to his brother's side, the second creature turned and was bearing down on him. He cursed and backed up, bending his knees and holding the hatchet in his hand out to the side. He expected some resistance when he tried to attack the creature, but he didn't expect the level that he was met with. When his hatchet buried itself in the creatures head, it did nothing. The creature kept coming after him, despite the deep, morbid gash on the side of its head.

"Ludwig," Feliciano cried from behind him as he tried to prevent the creature from wrestling him to the ground. Even with his strength, he could barely keep it off of him.

His worst fears had come true; the creatures had gotten stronger since the outbreak.

Ludwig was so deep in thought that he hadn't even noticed Kiku walking up behind the creature and stabbing it through the chest, causing it to finally plummet to the ground in a messy, bloody heap. Ludwig stood with a confused expression contorting his features, arms still raised in front of him.

"A little help," Gilbert called from where he was lying underneath one of the creatures, straining to keep it from biting him. "I like the strength and all, but I really don't want to turn into one of these god damn things."

Ludwig walked over and chopped the back of the creature's neck with his hatchet, despite the strength behind the attack; he only cut half of its neck. It took three more chops to completely dislocate the creatures head from its body, and even then it continued to bite out at the chilly air in hunger.

Feliciano, they all noticed, had almost retreated back to the tree they had been taking refuge behind.

"I'm starting to wonder if taking him was a bad idea," Ludwig said, watching as the dainty Italian slowly made his way back to them. "He gets this look of determination in his eyes when he talks about his brother, yet as soon as he's spooked he runs away."

Gilbert hummed under his breath, "it's understandable. I mean, Lud, look at how tiny he is."

"That's what I'm worried about," Ludwig said, eyebrows creasing. "He's so delicate looking, I'm just afraid that if we're not around he won't be able to defend himself…"

Gilbert looked up at his brother, holding a hand over his eyes to block out the sun. "You can't worry about stuff like that right now," Gilbert said. "He'll adapt eventually."

Ludwig didn't look convinced, but he nodded his head at his brother despite this pang of worry at the back of his head. As he watched the Italian get steadily closer, he worried if Feliciano would even be able to fight for himself. He was so small…

"Let's go," Gilbert said, pulling at one of his brother's sleeves. "We can't dilly dally any more with our lack of cover, we're walking targets right now."

"Right," Ludwig said as Feliciano finally caught up to them. Ludwig, once again, brought the radio to his lips. "We're on our way to the hospital now."

The radio was silent again for another few minutes, then Heracles familiar voice came through to them. _"Good, any problems?"_

Ludwig considered lying at this point. He didn't want to make the others at the hotel worry any more than they already were. However, lying to them might put them in danger if one of the infected happened to wander into the hotel. He needed to tell them that they were getting stronger.

Ludwig rolled his shoulders as he brought the radio back up to his lips. "They're stronger," he stated simply. "I couldn't hold even one back, I needed Kiku's help, and Gilbert got tackled to the ground."

_"He's not bit?"_

"No, he was capable of holding it back; he just couldn't get it off of him."

Heracles clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth in annoyance, and then let out a loud sigh, _"this is really bad news for us."_

"I know," Ludwig said as he armed at the sweat forming on his brow. "Four of us could barely hold back two of those things."

The radio was silent for another moment as Heracles seemed to be thinking about the situation on the other end. He was probably wondering the same thing as Ludwig. Would it be safe for them to continue on any further? How would Feliciano's brother and the nurse get out of that kind of situation? If the whole place was really infested with them, then it would be next to impossible for them to get out of there alive.

He couldn't let Feliciano down, however. They needed to at least try to help. If there truly was a surveillance van in the parking lot, then they would have much better chances at survival.

Heracles, as if coming to same revelation as Ludwig, finally started speaking on the other end. _"You're only a block away from the hospital, keep going. There's a dish on the top of the white van, it sticks out like a sore thumb so you will be able to find it with relative ease."_ Heracles was quiet for a long moment, but the light static emanating from the radio made it clear that Heracles still wasn't finished speaking. _"Good luck,"_ Heracles whispered.

The voice died away with Ludwig's confidence following close behind.

They walked down the road with ease, and no creatures were waiting for them in the parking lot of the hospital. They were lucky for this little bit of relief. They all came to a stop at the foot of the parking lot, scanning all of the cars for a surveillance van sitting adjacent in the parking lot.

"There it is," Feliciano said, pointed one slender finger to the far left of the parking lot. "I can see the satellite on the roof."

"Good eye," Gilbert said, patting him on the shoulder. "Now let's get those losers out of there!"

Ludwig smiled and followed behind his brother, weaving through the complacent vehicles, looking around for any intruders. However, when Gilbert stopped suddenly, Ludwig felt his heart sink into his stomach.

Gilbert looked back at the group and waved his hands in front of his chest, "no, no, it's nothing." He cocked his head, "I just feel kind of dizzy all of a sudden."

"Brother?" Ludwig asked, putting a hand on his brother's shoulder in fear of his brother passing out. "You weren't bit, were you?"

"Nope, I would have felt that," Gilbert whispered. "I think the heat is starting to get to me."

That was the thing Ludwig had been unconsciously worrying about from the very beginning of their mission. His brother was albino, after all, over exposure to the sun wasn't good for him. "We're almost to the van," Ludwig said. "You'll have some shade in there."

"Is Gilbert alright?" Feliciano asked with a concerned tone from behind Ludwig, craning his neck over Ludwig's back to look at the cocky man kneeling on the ground.

Gilbert laughed and gave the red-head a thumbs up, "I'm fine, don't worry about it."

Ludwig, however, didn't believe him, but he followed behind without any qualms as Gilbert continued weaving through the cars. It was no use worrying about it now, he couldn't very well tell Gilbert to turn back around at this point.

When they finally got to the van Gilbert piled into it noisily, lying flat on his back on the leather matted floors. The sun had had a very negative effect on his body.

"Gilbert," Feliciano inquired, jumping into the car behind him frantically.

"He's fine," Ludwig said, "he's just not supposed to be exposed to the sun for long periods of time." Ludwig held the back of his hand against his brother's forehead, and clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth at the heat emanating from his brother's pale skin. He already had a horrible sun burn on his forehead and his cheeks just from two hours of exposure. "Hand me the water," Ludwig asked, holding his hand out for one of the survivors to hand it over to him.

Kiku handed it to him tentatively as he stepped into the van, closing the door behind himself as he did so. He looked down at Gilbert and marked his reddened cheeks and forehead. "Your brother," Kiku began. "He is albino, correct?"

"Yes," Ludwig said as he held the chilled water bottle to his brother's forehead. "I completely forgot about him not being able to stand against the sun for long periods of time; he didn't even put sun screen on."

Kiku hummed under his breath, "I went to a school with a boy like that." Kiku held his own water bottle to Gilbert's heated cheeks, "I felt so bad, we would all be enjoying gym class, and he would be stuck sitting in the shade of the school's over hang."

Ludwig nodded, "Gilbert's experience was something like that."

"Let's not spread personal information now, little brother," Gilbert finally spoke up, opening his eyes to the three hovering survivors. "I'm fine, so contact Heracles and tell him we're in. Then call those other two idiots stuck in there."

Only then did Ludwig take the time to observe the inside of the van, and the fact that yes, it was a surveillance van. The walls were scaled with small television sets and speakers, along with twin radio sets in the front seat and a small pistol on the dashboard.

Feliciano himself was busy turning on each TV set, impatiently searching for the one that was set on his brother and the nurse.

Ludwig nodded his head, but told Kiku to continue looking over Gilbert, despite his brother's angry protests at the notion. Ludwig joined Feliciano in turning on the TV sets as he brought the radio to his mouth. "We're in the surveillance van," he said.

This time it took Heracles no time in answering him, _"good, I'm assuming there are cameras set up?"_

"Yes," Ludwig said. "There's even a pistol in the front seat."

 _"That's great,"_ Heracles breathed out in a sigh of relief. _"I was so worried that the van wasn't what I thought it was."_ Heracles was quiet for a moment, _"now it's pretty much up to you guys, the only thing I can do now is warn you if I see something strange from the outside. Good luck"_

Ludwig felt his confidence building again. They could do this, if they tried hard enough they could get the nurse and Feliciano's brother out alive. Ludwig turned quickly when he heard Feliciano let out a small sob, only to realize that it was a sob of relief.

On the monitor standing in front of Feliciano sat a dark haired man – and another man that looked like the spitting image of Feliciano – curled up on the floor together.

They were sleeping even though it was the middle of the day, it was clear that their hours were mixed up from being inside the hospital for so long.

"Fratello," Feliciano cried, holding a hand over the screen that harboured his older brother.

Ludwig gave Feliciano time to recuperate, but quickly began shooting questions at him. He understood Feliciano's worries, but they had no time to spare. If he really wanted to save his brother, then he should have known they needed to act quickly in order to get him out of there as soon as possible. "Feliciano, what room number is that?"

Feliciano looked at the screen for a moment, scanning around the information in the upper corner. "It says floor number five, room 216"

"Alright," Ludwig said with a sense of finality. "We need to get them out of there." Ludwig gulped as he looked at the monitor for all of the other rooms, all of which were scaled wall-to-wall with infected hospital patients.

It would a tricky escape for the two trapped inside its walls, he was happy that he wasn't in their position.

Ludwig pulled the radio out of his pocket and changed the channel accordingly, tapping it three times. He took in a deep breath and began speaking into the radio, loud enough so that it would wake up the two sleeping men.

 

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Antonio woke up with a start to the sound of the radio buzzing to life in his ear with a different voice filtering through than before. He scrambled up from where he lay and untangled himself from the thin sheet shielding he and Lovino from the cold. Antonio picked the radio up off of the floor and held it in front of his face, listening to the voice as it escaped the speakers.

 _"We found a surveillance van,"_ the voice spoke in an almost General like voice. _"We can see every room in the hospital."_

"That's great," Antonio said, however, he was beginning to feel doubtful. The man talking to him didn't seem to be happy about what he was seeing in the monitors. "Is there a way out for us?" Antonio asked, almost wanting to cover the mouth of the speaker so he couldn't hear the answer he was going to get.

 _"That's the thing,"_ the severe voice said. _"Just about every room surrounding you right now is, well…"_ the voice eked off, causing a sense of hopelessness to rise in the pit of Antonio's stomach.

"What is it," Antonio asked. "There's no point in hiding things from us now," Antonio felt anger bubbling despite his normally calm demeanour He was hungry, cranky, cold, and he was feeling the effects of cabin fever nipping at his heels, he was in no mood to be playing guessing games with a complete stranger. "Tell me," he demanded.

The person on the other end seemed to have heard the severity in his tone, and finally answered him truthfully. _"You're surrounded, from one end to the next."_

"Crap," Antonio said to himself, pulling the radio from his mouth and lowering his head onto his knees. He knew the answer wasn't going to be good, but some part of him had hoped that there was at least a slight chance for them to make their escape safely.

The voice on the other end began speaking again, causing Antonio to lift his head from his knees.

_"I'm not trying to further damper your spirits, but I feel the need to warn you about the infected before you make your escape."_

Antonio sighed in disbelief; the Gods truly weren't smiling down on him at all. It was one thing after another for him, and it didn't seem to be getting any better. He tried to keep his head high, however, as he didn't want to damper Lovino's spirits. More than anything, he wanted to get Lovino to his brother. He didn't want to see him dying in vein. He couldn't explain it, but he himself would rather die than see Lovino hurting.

"Lay it on me," Antonio said, looking back over his shoulder at the emaciated Italian boy with his eyebrows knitting together.

 _"They seem to have gotten stronger,"_ the man on the other end said, causing Antonio to remember the incredibly loud bang one of them had made when he and Lovino were hiding in he dispensary. _"It's almost as if they're-"_

"Mutating," Antonio said.

The voice coming through the other end was silent, but Antonio knew that the person was thinking the same thing that he was. Everything was getting worse, and this was horrible, considering the beginning was barely liveable.

"Antonio," Lovino said from behind the Spaniard, his voice still sleepy. "Is everything alright?"

Antonio turned around and smiled at Lovino reassuringly, "everything's fine, Lovi." However, Antonio quickly dropped the act when he realized what he was doing. If anything, he would only make their situation worse if he started lying to Lovino. The last thing he needed was to create a rift in Lovino's trust in him. "You know what, Lovi, I was lying just then, everything is not fine."

Lovino's eyebrows shot up, eyes frantic, "what do you mean?"

"Look, Lovi, I don't want you to panic…"

"Oh my god, Antonio, don't you think it's a little too late to tell me something like that? We're kind of trapped in the middle of a horde of zombies; I can't imagine it getting worse than this."

Antonio scratched the back of his head, Lovino was right, it was pointless trying to make their situation seem less dire than what it really was. Lovino wouldn't panic; he hadn't panicked even after they had been chased into a corner. If anything, Antonio would be the one to start panicking. "They said the infected have gotten even stronger than when the outbreak first started," Antonio said, wincing at the urgency in his voice.

"OK," Lovino said, shrugging his shoulders. "We kind of got a glimpse of that yesterday."

"Yeah," Antonio said, "but that's not everything you need to know."

"What?" Lovino asked, his voice weak from malnourishment.

"They found a surveillance van in the parking lot, the soldiers must have been using it to check on the progress of the ones on the inside…"

"Lot of good that did them," Lovino said with a scoff.

"We're surrounded, whatever room we choose is going to be infested," Antonio finished.

Lovino looked at Antonio like he was crazy for a moment, eyebrows knit together in a harsh line. For a moment, Antonio thought Lovino was going to snap, but was surprised when Lovino reacted in a completely different fashion than what he had expected.

"And," Lovino asked, holding his hands out in front of his chest, indicating that this wasn't news to him.

"Well, Lovi-"

"I kind of figured that out when we got trapped in the dispensary," Lovino said as he shrugged his shoulders. "And don't call me Lovi, how many times am I going to have to correct you?"

Antonio was stuck with a dumbfounded look at Lovino words, they were so relaxed, it was almost as if Lovino wasn't worried at all. Antonio continually worried about Lovino freaking out, when in reality, he should have been worrying about himself. Lovino had come to terms with their situation long before Antonio himself could. Antonio couldn't help the laugh that bubbled to the surface.

"Oh fuck, don't tell me you're going to snap. That's the last thing I need right now."

Antonio held a hand to his stomach in an attempt to hold the laughter at bay.

"Really, what's so funny?" Lovino asked, grabbing Antonio's shoulder to get his attention.

Antonio finally looked up, meeting Lovino's willow green eyes with his own dark browns. Antonio smiled at the concerned look on Lovino's face despite his angry words, "it's just that, Lovi, you're so calm."

"What, why is that surprising?" Lovino almost screamed, causing Antonio to almost bust into another cackling fit at the irony.

"No reason, Lovi," Antonio said as he finally stood up from where he was perched on the floor. Antonio grabbed the radio and brought it back up to his mouth, "OK, tell us what we need to do."

The radio was silent for another few minutes before it buzzed back to life, this time with another voice speaking through to them. It was Lovino's brother, Antonio could tell this by the happy lilt to his voice. Lovino had told Antonio about his over-abundance of happiness in a sleepy daze.

 _"Ludwig will tell you what to do,"_ the voice said. _"Just let me speak to my brother first, it's only going to take a minute, please?"_

"Of course," Antonio said, pulling the radio away from his mouth to hand the radio to Lovino. Lovino took it from his without question, holding the radio up to his mouth with trembling hands. It seemed as soon as he was about to talk to his brother, he lost all of his composure.

"Feli," Lovino said into the radio. His hands began to fidget as he waited for his brother, as if he was afraid of what he would be answered with.

 _"Lovi,"_ Antonio could hear Feliciano's voice, just barely, filtering through the speaker of the radio. His voice was softer than Antonio had remembered it, but Antonio knew why it was like that. This was Feliciano trying to say goodbye, just in case things didn't turn out for the better. Antonio felt his heart pang against his chest painfully.

The group on the other end didn't think they were going to make it out alive.

 _"Lovino, I'm so sorry you have to go through this,"_ Feliciano whined through the speakers. _"I would do anything to get you out of there."_

"I know you would," Lovino said. "You are my stupid little brother, after all."

Feliciano laughed, _"You're so mean, Lovi."_

Lovino hummed into the speaker, his eyes softening, "how are you doing so far, Feliciano? Are you somewhere safe?"

 _"Yes,"_ Feliciano said happily, _"and when you get out, you can be safe with us."_

Lovino laughed; a cold thing that caused Antonio chest to tighten painfully. Antonio knew from this laugh that Lovino thought he wasn't making it out alive as well. He was humouring his brother, nothing more. Antonio felt his confidence fall flat on its face again. Who was he kidding, thinking that they would make it out alive? Four more levels to go, and every room in the hospital was death trap.

"Feliciano," Lovino began, worrying his lip between his teeth as he thought about what he was going to say to his younger brother. "Don't stay hung up on my death if I don't make it out of here alive, promise me that."

The words chilled Antonio, but he understood. If Lovino's brother was as soft as he had told him, then it was better to clear the air sooner rather than later. There was no point in leaving behind regrets.

 _"Lovi-"_ Feliciano began, wilting at his brother's words.

"Don't start crying," Lovino said. "You can't do that, not in your situation, you don't have the liberty to be a baby any more You have to keep yourself safe, that's the most important thing right now. Weakness and tears do not keep you safe, little brother."

 _"Lovi,"_ Feliciano said, his voice filled with tears despite his brother's warnings. _"I won't be able to handle your death, not a second time."_

Lovino bit down on his lip to stop it from trembling; his brother really knew how to pluck his heartstrings. Nonetheless, Lovino couldn't sit down and cry with his brother, he needed to stay strong. He needed to stay strong so Feliciano could stay strong as well. "You know what it's like in here," Lovino said. "You can see everything where you are, right?"

Feliciano was silent on the other side of the radio for a long moment, before he finally spoke again. _"I do."_

"Then you know our chances of escape are slim," Lovino said, shaking his head. "I want you to know that there was nothing you could do, and that if I die, it isn't your fault."

Feliciano sniffled but stopped crying when he realized Lovino was ready to end their conversation. _"I love you, Lovino."_

"I love you too, Feliciano," Lovino handed the radio over to Antonio and turned away from the cameras to silently weep, no tears, just soft sobs of dismay. Antonio didn't comment on it and left Lovino to compose himself before they had to set off.

 _"Are you ready?"_ The same gruff voice from before called through the speakers this time.

"I think so," Antonio said, before shaking his head, "I mean yes, yes we're ready."

 _"Other than directions, I have nothing else to offer you,"_ the man said. _"I wish I could say otherwise."_

"It's alright," Antonio said, smiling softly as if the person on the other end could see him. "I think I have an idea, anyway."

 _"Tell me,"_ the surly voice asked.

"Well, when Lovi and I entered this room we would have died if not for the corpse in the corner of the room. There was a dead body rotting on the bed, assumedly a patient. For some reason the corpse warded off the infected patients."

_"What do you mean, how is that possible? There are dead bodies littering the streets everywhere, and yet we were still followed when the outbreak first happened."_

"The corpses blood," Antonio said simply. "For some reason, when we covered ourselves in it, they lost our scent."

 _"That's sick,"_ the voice said. _"But it does make sense."_

"They still haven't come back, so it's a good sign. We were even able to rest for a few hours."

 _"Good,"_ the man said sincerely on the other end. _"You're going to need to be well rested and alert for what you're about to do."_

"I know," Antonio said. "As a nurse, I've always had to be alert. Now just tell me which way would be safer for us, and we'll head out. There's no point in dancing around the issue any more."

The static died on the other end so suddenly that for one frightening moment Antonio thought something had happened to the survivors on the other end. However, the voice started up almost as soon as it had left, this time with instructions for Antonio.

_"From where I'm looking into your room, the best way for you to go right now would be out by the soldier's dead body, where the operating table is."_

"Yes," Antonio said, waiting impatiently for the voice to continue with directions.

 _"Go through the exit there, then you will be in a long hallway,"_ the voice was quiet, whispering something to himself. Antonio could tell that he was looking at the monitors, and which route would be the safest for them. Judging by his silence, not much looked safe. _"From the hallway, you turn left, then you'll come to another exit door. If I'm correct, the stairs actually lead down three levels, leaving you on the second floor…"_

"Yes, I remember that stairwell," Antonio felt a small bit of encouragement. If they could get to the second floor, it would give them a huge chance at escape.

 _"The problem is,"_ the voice began, but suddenly stopped, as if the person on the other end was considering how to word something without offending. It made Antonio's heartbeat pick up.

"Spit it out!" Antonio jumped when Lovino screamed right beside him. He hadn't even noticed the young Italian standing up from where he was sitting, let alone walking over to him.

 _"Sorry,"_ the gruff voice apologized. _"The hallway isn't so bad, you'll probably come across at least seven of them wandering in and out of rooms, but the second floor is bad. But, if what you said about the blood of the corpse's if true, then maybe you have a stronger fighting chance than what I initially thought."_

"How bad is the second floor?" Antonio asked.

 _"Bad,"_ the man stated simply. _"It's crowded down there, much like what you would see in New York City."_

"Crap," Lovino bit out, bending over and resting his hands on his knees.

"Why are they all migrating like that?" Antonio asked.

 _"I couldn't tell you,"_ the man said with a shrug in his voice. _"I just know that it can't be for anything good."_

"Know of anything down there that could be attracting them?" Lovino asked, finally standing up from where he was hunched over.

"I don't think so," Antonio scratched his head as he tried to remember what was on the second floor. "I'm never really down there, because my duties are up here, so it's hard to remember."

"Oh well," Lovino said, "it's not like it would have changed our situation anyway."

Antonio nodded, and then brought the radio back up to his mouth, "it doesn't matter," he said into the speaker. "We can't plan for something like that, so we'll just hope our idea with the blood will work out for us."

 _"Ok,"_ the man said. _"Then get going."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually had to split this chapter into two parts because it was so long! I really hope that you guys appreciate this because this means that I'm putting out two extra chapters this week! : ) The second part of this chapter will be up tomorrow, or early tonight. Keep your eyes open!
> 
> March Break works wonders on the mind.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!


	12. Bambino

After having slathered on more of the rotting corpse's blood, Lovino and Antonio left the room without another look back. Antonio held the radio close to his chest, afraid that he would drop it, and Lovino stuck close to his side. There was no room for manly pride at this point; they needed to be as careful as possible. If they were going to escape alive, they needed to be extremely cautious of their surroundings.

They were lucky, for the room adjacent to them was empty sole for the dead body of the soldier on the ground.

"Wait," Antonio said, holding an arm across Lovino's chest as he hunkered down next to the soldier's still body. He rifled through the soldiers pockets, hoping for another weapon, but sadly found nothing. The gun he had found previously had been the only thing the soldier had with him. Antonio believed that the soldier had probably wasted all of his ammo on the other infected patients, and had just ditched his other weapons as he ran. Antonio felt shivers wrack up his spine at the thought. He hoped that he and Lovino didn't meet a dead end like the soldier before him had.

"Never mind," Antonio said. "It looks like there's nothing on him."

"Not even a knife?" Lovino asked.

"Not even a knife."

Antonio reluctantly stood up, walking toward the door leading to the outdoor hallway without so much as a look back. He was scared at what he was going to see on the other side, but it was their only hope at this point. They had to face it or they would just starve to death, or eventually be caught off guard by one of the infected.

Both one of those deaths were too horrible to fathom, so Antonio vowed not to let it get to that point.

Antonio steeled himself and wrenched the door open, holding back his gasp at what he saw on the other side. He needed to remain calm and collected; he couldn't make any odd noises or he would attract the wrong kind of attention.

On the other side of the door, Antonio was faced with at least ten infected patients. Even more than the man on the radio had told him had been wandering around. They must have come from other rooms during the time he had talked to the man.

Lovino walked up beside him, still as ever, as they observed the wandering patients. They were lucky, normally the patients would have been attacking them already, but it seemed as if they didn't notice them. In fact, the patients didn't even look up from where they were wandering. The noise hadn't acquired their attention, and the sight of Antonio and Lovino didn't either. It was like they were solely motivated, or enticed, by their scents.

This was good for them. If they were lucky, this strategy would work for them when they finally got to the second floor of the hospital.

Antonio took one cautious step forward as he watched the patients, and was pleased when nothing happened.

"No time for this," Lovino said, stepping around Antonio and walking forward. Antonio's hand shot forward to stop Lovino, but he couldn't grab him in time. Antonio cringed as he watched Lovino walking forward, there was nothing he could do to stop him. The only thing Antonio could do was watch Lovino walk on, and wait for something bad to happen.

Nothing happened, however. Lovino didn't slow his gait as he walked past the first patients, and to Antonio's surprise, the patients didn't notice him. Even at an uncomfortably close proximity, they still didn't seem to register Lovino.

Lovino turned around when he reached the corner, and motioned for Antonio to hurry up with his left hand.

Antonio nodded his head and sped up his gait to catch up with Lovino. And, when Antonio reached the young Italian man at the corner, he stopped shoulder-to-shoulder with him . They looked down the longer hall together and both saw the glowing red exit sign hanging loose at the end. There were at least five more infected patients limping around at this point, and they all seemed just as disinterested in them as the last set of patients.

If they were lucky, it would stay that way.

Antonio swallowed back his doubts and took the first step forward this time, trying to emanate as much confidence as Lovino had when he had walked past the first group of infected patients. Antonio passed by the second one without any problem, then the third, then the fourth, and finally the fifth. They all walked past him as if he were one of their own. Despite this being a good thing for them, the feeling was admittedly eerie.

It made Antonio feel like he was one of them.

Antonio turned and watched as Lovino followed his steps - passing by them as if he were nothing but part of the group - and stood close to him by the set of twin exit doors. "That went OK," Antonio breathed out as he reached for the handle of the doors, pushing through them and dragging Lovino in behind they were inside they both leaned against the doors and let out twin sighs of relief. They had made it, they were almost halfway there. If they could handle the claustrophobia downstairs and pass through the crowd, they would be home free. Lovino would finally be reunited with his brother.

It was strange, but this was truly all Antonio cared about. He cared more about seeing Lovino get to his brother than saving himself. His mother had always called him a selfless person, after all. He finally realized that she was completely right about that, despite protesting to it many times.

His mother, his mother…

Antonio was shaken from his trance when the radio he was holding to his chest buzzed to life.

 _"Good job,"_ the voice on the other end said. _"It looks like your idea worked very well. We're glad."_

Antonio huffed into the radio and laughed, "it takes a nurse, I guess."

The man on the other end, surprisingly, let out his own chuckle. It was a nervous one, but it was chuckle nonetheless. _"Now we'll see if it works out on the second floor,"_ his laughter died quickly. _"It looks the same as last time, so you'll just have to go from there. At this point, there are no pointers I can give you. All you have to do is make your way through the crowd, straight down, then go through the stairwell. It will bright you to the first floor, which is relatively empty."_ The voice on the other end grew quiet, and the static died away. However, just as Antonio was about to put the radio back in his pocket, it sparked back to life.

 _"Good luck,"_ the man said.

Antonio smiled and pulled the speaker away from his ear, holding it close to his chest.

They were going to need all the luck in the world to get through the second floor. And, if it was just as packed as the man had said, they would have to be careful.

Antonio grabbed Lovino by the shoulder and led him down the darkened stairwell, careful not to trip on any of the cluttered stairs. They were lucky as it seemed none of the patients could master the door handle, and none of them had wandered into the adjacent stairwells. Antonio was aware that they could break it down, but their little safety in the stairwell made him feel more comfortable. If anything, the stairwell would grant them temporary comfort if anything were to happen.

When they finally reached the second floor, something came to Antonio. An epiphany of sorts.

With his hand on the door handle, he looked at Lovino and said one last thing to him, "don't let the blood rub off of you."

And with that, Antonio opened the door.

What waited for them on the other side of the door was worse than Antonio had expected. The man on the radio wasn't kidding when he had said that the second floor looked like Time's Square. In fact, it looked even more crowded than Times Square. The only thing running in their favour was the fact that they all seemed to be facing one way. Slamming into each other and pushing their way through each other.

Whatever it was, they were really bent on getting to it.

Antonio was frustrated by this display, he still couldn't figure out what was on the second floor that would be so attractive to the patients. But, considering they were bent on death, it had to be something living.

Maybe it was a patient that was hiding from them.

He pitied whoever it was, and vowed that if he had the chance, he would help them out. If it put he and Lovino in danger, however, he wouldn't do it. He wouldn't ruin their chances after everything they had gone through together.

He wouldn't let it end that way.

In his absent thoughts, he hadn't even noticed Lovino dragging him behind him. To his shock, Lovino was actually using force to shove the creatures out of their way. They weren't even reacting, however, they just stumbled over and continued walking toward the place they all seemed bent on getting to.

Lovino, however, wasn't giving this little detail a second thought. The only thing he cared about was escaping the hospital safely. Antonio couldn't agree more, but he couldn't seem to shake the feeling that something was wrong. He felt like he was leaving something important behind, like he was forgetting something…

They were just breaking through the crowd when Antonio finally realized what it was that was there. The shadow shrouding his memory finally cleared, and as soon as it had dissipated, his throat seized up.

He knew exactly what the creatures were after. The second floor was the maternity ward.

Antonio should have remembered that after all the times he had walked past it. He remembered hearing the little babies crying, and watching the happy couples staring in at their children. He remembered never having to walk that way, but he always had despite this. He loved children, and he had always fancied the idea of having one of his own when – and if – he found a partner.

That idea was looking a little impossible at this point, however.

But that wasn't the issue at hand any more Antonio's problems in life were no longer about finding a partner or about how much money he needed to last the week. Now his greatest worries were about how he would survive the days.

But the babies, he needed to save them. He couldn't leave the children behind; an adult was one thing, but a child was another.

When they passed the crowd, Antonio grabbed Lovino's shoulder and dragged him to the wall, away from where the creatures were migrating.

"What?" Lovino asked, annoyance evident in his strained voice.

"Babies," Antonio said. "That's what they're after, the maternity ward is on this floor."

Antonio had expected Lovino to instantly answer him with a no. He believed that Lovino would want to leave them behind, because of all that they had been through. They were so close to escaping it all, and Antonio was blatantly suggesting they throw it under the rug to save a few small children. Lovino, however, continued to surprise Antonio around every turn. So really, Antonio shouldn't have been surprised when Lovino showed immediate sympathy for the children.

"Then we need to get them," Lovino said, as if it would the easiest thing to do in the world.

Antonio would have smacked Lovino for his recklessness if he wasn't just as reckless himself. It seemed that, despite his tough exterior, Lovino was a soft person. He had shown that side of himself to Antonio at least three times since he had found him lying in his hospital bed. Antonio found that he liked that side of Lovino very much, but he also found that he liked his standoffish side.

Again, he couldn't explain it.

Antonio patted the backpack that Lovino had slung over his shoulder, the contents moved around under his touch. "Make sure you don't drop this," Antonio said severely. "Most of this will have been pointless if we lose it."

"That's not important right now, Antonio," Lovino said. "We could find most of this stuff in a basic drug store if we really needed it, but we couldn't bring a baby back."

Antonio's felt his heart beat up into his throat, and his stomach jump. He felt mad at Lovino's selflessness, but at the same time, felt extremely happy for it. The world needed more people like that, it was lucky to have kept one like Lovino.

"Good," Antonio said. "Then let's go.

 

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"What the hell are they doing?" Ludwig cursed, pounding one of his fists against the floor of the van. He watched on the monitor as Lovino and Antonio started walking in the opposite way of the exit door and toward the growing crowd of infected. They were walking directly into the red zone.

Ludwig scanned the monitors frantically, looking for the thing that had caught their attention.

"The bambinos," Feliciano said calmly. In fact, Feliciano was the calmest one out of them, even though his brother was currently walking into the middle of a battle zone.

"What?" Gilbert asked, inching over to where Ludwig and Feliciano sat in front of the monitors.

Feliciano pointed up to one of the monitors, it was buzzing with static but every once in a while it would clear up. It was a surveillance camera of a floor in the hospital. It was the maternity ward, covered from wall to wall with almost impenetrable plate glass. It was this that the infected were drawn to, the babies. They were still alive on the other side of the glass.

"Are you serious?" Gilbert asked, voice getting higher as he watched the two men walking further into the crowd. At one point they completely disappeared, and the group had feared the worst. However, moments later, they saw their heads poking out from the middle of the group.

"Lovino is selfless," Feliciano laughed sadly. "I should have known he wouldn't let something like this pass him by." He fiddled with the hem of his shirt, "he would rather die than let someone else die."

"Wonderful," Ludwig said, running a hand through his sweaty locks. "Their mission was already hopeless, and somehow they survived. But, instead of escaping when they had the god damned chance they run into an even bigger mess!"

Feliciano smiled, "it looks like the nurse is the same as Lovino, except he doesn't yell all the time."

Ludwig hummed as he watched the two men disappear then reappear in the crowd of infected like waves.

The only thing he couldn't help but wonder was, what in the world would they do with a room full of babies? They obviously couldn't take them all with them. And how would they feed them? They couldn't even feed themselves, let alone a horde of small hungry babies.

While Ludwig respected the selflessness, he couldn't respect the slow thinking. They weren't thinking about the future.

 

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"Lovino," Antonio called out, having lost track of the young man in the horde of infected patients. He was worried, but he didn't want to start panicking in the middle of the crowd. Lovino was strong, he would be able to fend for himself, and if something were truly wrong, Antonio would have heard his voice. He had to trust in Lovino's power, it was amazing enough that he was able to stand and walk properly.

Antonio let out a loud gasp of air as he finally reached the opposite side of the horde of infected patients. He impatiently looked around for Lovino, and let out a sigh of relief when he saw the familiar head of dark auburn hair poking out from between two patients. Then, with a loud gasp, Lovino came out of the other side, falling to his knees.

He still wasn't strong enough to walk for long periods of time, but it was a start.

If the apocalypse was good for one thing, it was for strength training.

"I still have the key," Antonio said, raising his voice so it could be heard properly over the loud groans of the infected patients.

"Good," Lovino said. "But we have to do this fast, as soon as we open those doors, they're going to smell it."

"I know," Antonio said. He pulled the master key from the lanyard around his neck and jammed it into the lock, looking to his left and then his right before he swung the door open.

Antonio had expected a reaction from the crowd, but he wasn't prepared for the one he got.

Never in their lives had Lovino or Antonio seen quicker, and stronger, reactions to something. The horde went wild when they swung the door open. Screaming, crying out, clawing at each other to get closer, and letting out wild groans of pure blood-lust They were like wild animals, only far worse than anything either of them had ever seen in a wild animal. They were ravenous beast, hungry for the blood of the living.

They ran through the door and slammed it shut behind themselves, backing up into the adjacent walls as the patients all swarmed around the doors like honey bees. They slammed their fists against the glass, pressed their faces against it, and groaned in an attempt to gain entrace.

The babies in the room were crying so loud that they were almost drowning out the sound from the outdoors. There weren't many babies left, as it appeared most of the parents and nurses had tried to evacuate them from the hospital. Lovino and Antonio could only hope that they had been successful in doing so.

They had their doubts, however.

There were only four children left in the nursery. Small children, who looked sick and weak, it looked as if they had been left behind because they had had the smallest chance of survival. The idea of leaving a child behind because of that made him cringe. It was cruel and usual punishment for nothing more than a baby; a poor, defenceless baby that wanted nothing more than to be wrapped in its mother's arms.

"Let's go," Lovino said. "Cover the bab-"

Before Lovino could even finish his sentence, the glass, which was supposed to be impenetrable, collapsed in on itself and shattered to pieces of the blood speckled linoleum floor. Lovino and Antonio didn't even have time to react as the infected patients filtered into the room.

In mere second the cradles holding the children were surrounded.

Antonio's eyes widened, "no," he whispered, pushing the infected aside, as if that would do any good. "No, stop," he cried, trying to fit himself between them to get to the cribs. "Please," Antonio finally shouted, dropping to his knees behind the group.

He couldn't get through them.

Lovino stood silent behind Antonio, watching the scene in front of him in a daze. He watched as blood covered the maws of the infected, he watched as their hands came back covered in blood, and he listened to the cries of the innocent infants.

"No, no, no," Antonio cried into the palms of his hands. "No, please stop it." He couldn't move, he was planted on the spot behind the infected. He couldn't drown out the sound of the children dying, their crying voices becoming nothing but gruesome gurgles as they cried out for help. Antonio could do nothing but reach out with his weak hands and tug at the pants of the infected, as if his pathetic pleas would be heard by them.

They could do nothing.

They stood there, silently watching as the infected ate every last morsel of the small children. They sat and listened as they smacked their lips and groaned in pleasure at the feeling of being completely full. It was disgusting, but they couldn't move. They were planted to the spot in guilt and sadness.

If only they had been a little faster…

"Let's go," Lovino finally said, his voice distant to his own ears.

Antonio didn't answer; he only continued weeping softly to himself, mumbling something under his breath that Lovino couldn't quite hear.

"Antonio," Lovino said, harsher than he had been before. "We need to go, let's go," he looked down at his feet, holding back the tears that were threatening to break the surface. "There's nothing we can do now, we tried."

Antonio finally stopped crying at Lovino's words, and turned back to look at the Italian, to finally look at him. He was dirty from head to toe, his face was covered in dirt and blood, and his hair was caked to his head with sweat. And yet, he was still incredibly beautiful, he still looked like the angel Antonio had seen when he had been chased into his room on the day of the outbreak.

Lovino – Antonio believed – had been his gift from God.

Antonio bowed his head, wiped the tears from his eyes, and stood up from where he had been pathetically slouched on the floor. He looked at Lovino and nodded, "you're right, Lovi, we tried."

Lovino tried to return the smile, but it was just as strained as Antonio's had been. This wouldn't be an event that would be easily forgotten, but they needed to forget about it for the time being. The broken down hospital was not a place to start healing. When they finally escaped, and were finally safe, then they could heal.

Together, they could help each other get over what had happened to them.

 

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"Oh, Lovi," Feliciano whined, once again holding his hand up to the computer monitor. "I'm so sorry."

Gilbert himself was backed up into the van door, holding his head in his hands, Ludwig and Kiku doing the same. They weren't crying, no, because they couldn't quite grasp the pain Antonio and Lovino were feeling, but they felt sad all the same. Innocent lives - young babies - were dead.

"He's blaming himself," Feliciano said. "I know he is."

They watched as the two finally made their way to the exit door, both with their heads down. They were talking, but the conversation looked strained. The two hospital survivors would need a lot of healing, mentally and physically.

"They're out now," Ludwig said as he watched them leave the front of the hospital.

Both of them looked around for the van absently, twin lethargic looks on their faces. Ludwig could tell they were just barely keeping themselves standing at this point, he could see the exhaustion in the way they moved.

Ludwig laid on the horn, just once, to get their attention.

They looked up and started walking toward the van.

"Oh man," Gilbert said, holding his hand to his head. "They look so terrible…"

The group didn't even have time to open their mouths before Feliciano jumped out of the car, bounding toward his brother. He weaved through the vehicles like he had memorized their placements.

The group couldn't stop him; wouldn't stop him.

"Lovi," Feliciano cried, jumping into his brother's arms. He was so excited to see his brother alive that he completely disregarded the blood covering his brother's clothing. "Lovi," Feliciano cried, face pressed up to his brother's cheek.

That was it, that was the breaking point for Lovino.

"Feliciano," he said, running his fingers through his brother's soft hair. The tears he had tried so hard to hold at bay finally ran free. The hot, salty tears made clear tracks on Lovino's dirty face. "Feliciano, I was so scared."

"I know, Fratello," Feliciano said, trying to soothe his older brother. "I know."

 

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It was dark by the time they were coming back, making Heracles task of directing them difficult. They hot-wired the van and decided to drive, deeming it far safer than walking around, especially at night when the infected were boundless.

Feliciano was curled up with his brother on one side of the van, and the nurse was pressed up against them. They looked pitiful, the most broken human beings any of them had ever seen in their lives. No amount of healing could fix them at this point. It could make them better, yes, but they would never be able to get over everything they had seen and been through.

Ludwig shook his head as they approached the crossroads, revelling in the momentary silence.

"Look out!" Heracles voice blasted through the speakers, causing Ludwig and Gilbert both to jump in the front seat at the sudden warning. They couldn't heed the warning fast enough, however, as they collided head-on with a small minivan.

Both cars rolled into adjacent ditches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are finally starting to really heat up!
> 
> The next chapters are going to be much faster paced, and I think that you guys are really going to enjoy it!
> 
> This was a two part chapter AND I gave it to you guys early, at that! I hope you guys enjoyed it because I put quite some work into this one! I feel like the second part was a little anti-climatic and I'm sorry for that, but hopefully I can make it up to you guys in the next few chapters.
> 
> And, hey, I don't really like bribing people but I would really like it if you guys would show a little~ more love to this story. I'm not going to hold it over you, but I miiiiiight be inspired get another chapter out sooner if I see some more love being directed this way.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and as always, don't be afraid to comment or give suggestions!


	13. Greetings

_"Lu… Lud… One… Er me…ease…"_

Gilbert's head spun, his vision nothing more than an inky blur. He tried to leverage himself up with his hands, but with the world spinning around him he found it near impossible. He tried twice until he finally let himself fall to the ground, relishing the feel of the cool grass caressing his sweaty face.

He couldn't figure out what was going on, and even though a voice at the back of his mind said it was important he couldn't find it in himself care. He was too tired; his limbs were limp and his head was pounding fiercely against his skull. He decided that whatever was nagging at him would have to be put on the back burner, if only for a little while.

_"Elp… So dar... Ould jus… Bert… Gilbert."_

Gilbert's consciousness finally started coming back when he heard his name being spoken by a familiar static-ridden voice. He gasped and tried to get up again, but he could still not find the power in himself. Instead of trying to stand, Gilbert pathetically dragged himself along the grassy ground, vision still blurry as he reached out blindly for the radio. He needed to get to it, he needed to ask for help.

Gilbert furiously blinked his eyes, trying to will away the dizziness that was stealing his vision. He could hear everything around him clearly despite his feeble vision, and what he heard told him something very bad had happened to them. He could hear a faint crying, somewhere off in the distance, and he could hear moans of pain from all around him.

"Damn it," Gilbert spat out through his teeth, clawing at the cold, dew covered ground to propel himself forward. He laid flat on his stomach and spread his arms out, patting the ground for the radio he knew was nearby. If only he could see, things would be a lot easier for him.

_"Someone answer me,"_ Heracles hectic voice filtered through. _"Please tell me you guys are OK?"_

There it was.

Gilbert reached out to his left and was instantly rewarded as his hand landed on the bulky black radio.

"Heracles," Gilbert said as he brought the damaged radio to his lips. "We crashed."

_"I know,"_ Heracles said, frustration present in his normally soft and calm voice. _"What I want to know is if you're all OK."_

"I don't know," Gilbert said, still trying to calm his wavering vision. "I must have hit my head pretty hard because I can't see anything."

_"Damn it,"_ Heracles cursed, _"after all that, this has to happen."_ After Heracles' voice died away, the sound of things smashing and breaking boomed through the radio. Heracles was angry, angrier than Gilbert thought the man could ever get. Just hearing his frustration wanted to make Gilbert scream.

Gilbert brought the radio away from his ear and looked around, trying hard to see through his messy vision. Through the blur, Gilbert could make out the light of a fire, and very faintly, someone's hunched figure. Gilbert built up all of his strength and bit through the pain as he finally sat up, albeit weakly, so he he could approach the figure. He finally got a chance to look down at himself, and even through the haze he could see dark patches of blood covering the front of his pants. And, considering there was no pain in his lower body, this meant the blood wasn't his.

Gilbert tried to hold back the fear and sickness welling up in him as he dragged himself over to the hunched figure on his backside. From where he was, he couldn't make out exactly who it was, he only knew that he needed to get over to check on them. He could faintly see a few others writhing around on the ground and coming to, but this person wasn't moving at all. They only sat there, seemingly staring off into the distance.

Gilbert only hoped that he wasn't going to be the first person to find one of the group members dead.

Gilbert dropped the radio to the ground, deciding that Heracles could be of no more help at this point. It was up to them to get themselves together and leave the site of the accident, Heracles and Roderich themselves would do nothing but hinder them at this point. They had no other cars to drive, and the added presence would probably only attract more of the infected. He listened to Heracles voice blatting through the speaker, but ignored it in favour of dragging himself closer to the hunched figure. With just two yanks at the ground, he reached forward and had his hand on the shoulder of the blurry figure.

Gilbert shook his hand and when the figure didn't move, he felt panic rising up into his gullet like a lead block. But, despite this, he swallowed down his fear and shook again, and as if his prayers were being answered, the hunched figure finally reacted to him.

First, they sucked in a deep breath of air, and second, they started looking around frantically, asking where they were. From what Gilbert could see, they weren't too injured. There was blood dripping down the person's tanned face, but he was otherwise unharmed. He could see, and he was responding to the noises he was hearing from all around him accordingly.

With fright.

The person panicked for a while, and Gilbert allowed the person that liberty for a moment. He didn't want to shake the person too much, so he allowed for him to come to his conclusions and remember on his own grounds.

"Oh my god," the person said when he turned toward Gilbert, sizing him up carefully. "Your head," he said, hand reaching out and pressing against the side of Gilbert's head, causing him to cry out.

It seemed that Gilbert was more injured that what he had initially thought.

"We need to treat that," he said. "Can you see right now?"

Judging by the concern, and understanding in that voice, it was obviously the nurse that had escaped the hospital that was talking to him. Only a nurse would be worrying about someone else before themselves like that. "Yeah, I'm having some trouble seeing," Gilbert said. "I can still see the outline of things, but my vision is really poor."

"OK," the nurse said. "You have a pretty severe concussion, but at least you're able to speak properly and move around."

Gilbert felt the nurse grabbing his hands, and pressing into the palm. He then felt the nurse grabbing at his knees. Gilbert only realized half way through the examination that the nurse was testing his muscles.

"We crashed," Gilbert said, still squinting his eyes as he tried to see around himself. "It was another van."

The nurse stopped his examination at this, dropping Gilbert's hands back into his lap. It seemed as though the nurse was finally realizing what had happened, and where exactly he was. He looked around himself one final time, and took to his feet in a flurry.

"Wait here," he said as he ran off into the darkness.

Gilbert blinked his eyes a few times, listening to the sounds of the dying world around him as he tried to gain his bearings. He wanted to at least be able to find his brother. However, his concussion wasn't allowing him to do so. He would be forced into letting the nurse see for him when he got back. If he got back.

Gilbert heard a shuffling from behind him, and turned to see what it was. He had assumed it would be his brother, or another survivor, so he began talking. "Are you hurt?" Gilbert asked, reaching his hand out for the figure he could not quite see through his weakened vision. "I'm kind of blind right now, so if you could make some noise it would be great."

What Gilbert didn't expect was a loud groan, and the sound of something wet slapping against the ground. Gilbert backed up; using his hands and his feet to carry himself away from whatever was coming his way. The last thing Gilbert needed in his state was an infected person attacking him and taking him down. He had barely been able to hold one back when he was perfectly healthy, he highly doubted he could defend himself very much in his weakened state. He couldn't even stand up without falling to the ground in pain.

Gilbert backed up further, panicking as he listened to the sound of the infected steadily approaching. He should have known this would have happened after the crash, after all, it was night time and a lot of blood had probably been shed. Gilbert himself had blood pouring down the side of his face like a river, dripping against his shirt in a steady rhythm If anything they would be surrounded in no time. With the stench of blood so thick in the air it would probably even attract the ones as far off as the hospital and the highway.

Gilbert felt his vision wavering, and he cursed his own weakness when he felt his legs giving out underneath him. They could no longer support him so he had to resort to dragging himself with his hands away from the threat.

Gilbert eventually found his arms weakening, and he had to strain to drag himself. He was lucky for the asphalt underneath him because he wouldn't have been able to drag himself away so quickly had he still been stuck in the high grass. However, with his arms even beginning to shut down, and his eyelids becoming heavy, he didn't think he had very long anyway. 'sorry, little brother,' Gilbert thought as his arms finally gave out.

He was lucky that the infected wasn't coming at him fast.

He heard the sound of flesh rending from behind him, and for a moment he thought it was his own. He only started understanding what had happened when he heard another person from behind him.

"Are you OK?" A soft voice asked from behind him, it almost sounded as if he were whispering. Gilbert knew that this person wasn't part of their group, and that they must have been from the other van.

Gilbert opened his mouth to answer, but found that he couldn't get anything to come out. He was so exhausted, and he had lost so much blood that he was barely able to keep his eyes open.

The person talking from behind him approached him even though he didn't answer, and he listened as they knelt down beside his head. "You're hurt, really bad too."

Gilbert tried to muster a 'no duh,' but he couldn't quite get it out, only a painful choking noise escaped his tightened throat. It was almost as if this person had rendered him speechless without even looking at him.

He blamed it on the adrenaline.

Gilbert almost shouted when he felt his body being turned over, only to realize that the person from before was just inspecting him; probably for bites or other injuries. Gilbert looked up at the person's face as they inspected him. He was a boy, probably no older than 20, with glasses and shoulder-length blonde hair. He looked incredibly sweet, almost girlish.

Gilbert, deciding that this man could mean no harm, finally let his eyes slip shut.

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"Lovino," Antonio said breathlessly as he ran to the fallen form of his patient. "Thank God, I was so worried!" Antonio dropped down beside Lovino and checked his emaciated body for serious damage, and thanked God aloud when he didn't find any serious injuries.

Lovino, however, still seemed pretty shaken from the accident. His eyelids were fluttering madly, and tears made their way down his cheeks.

Antonio checked Lovino over one more time before he picked him up and carried him over to the nearest survivors. Some of them Antonio didn't know, but the burly German, his older brother, and the Japanese man were there, along with one bespectacled blonde man, and another blonde man with thick eyebrows who seemed to be in the middle of a panic attack. They seemed decent enough, but Antonio would not have left Lovino there if it weren't for Gilbert, Ludwig and Kiku.

Antonio leaned over and carefully placed Lovino on the soft grass beside the other survivors, carefully looking them over one more time. They were lucky; so far none of the survivors had any severe wounds on their person.

They hadn't found the others yet, however.

Antonio stood up and stretched his aching arms before he looked over at the others who were awake. "Are there any more," Antonio asked, "survivors, I mean?"

The quiet blonde with the glasses nodded his head, "my step-brother, and two Nordic foreigners, their names are Tino and Berwald. They speak perfect English, though. Als- also Arthur's baby brother, we can't find him."

Antonio felt his heart sink at this, the idea that another baby would die because of him made him want to fall apart all over again. He watched as the man with the large eyebrows sunk to the ground, cradling his head in his hands as he began to sob violently, back shaking. He must have been Arthur.

Antonio ground his teeth and left the site, asking for Arthur to tag along with him, they needed to find that baby, and he needed to find the rest of the survivors before the infected got to them first.

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Tino coughed from where he was positioned against a large tree-trunk, Baby Peter cradled against his heaving chest.

He had found the baby, lying on the ground beside Matthew's body after the accident. He knew Matthew was still alive by the quick rise and fall of his chest, but he didn't want to leave Peter with him in fear that the baby would be taken by one of the infected while Matthew was out. However, as soon as Tino had taken the baby only 15 feet away from the scene of the accident, he had been chased down by one of the infected himself.

He should have known better.

Now, Tino was stuck up against a tree, far away from where the accident had taken place. He knew that he needed to get back, to show them that he was fine and so was Peter, but he couldn't quite muster the courage to do so. There were infected everywhere, and it seemed that as soon as he took a step, there was one waiting to chase him down even further away from the site of the accident. Tino huffed out a deep breath into the baby's soft blonde locks, and looked around the tree he was leaning against for anymore of the creatures from before.

There were none; at least, as far as he could see.

Tino gathered his courage and started slowly making his way back to the site of the accident; he needed to find the others.

He needed to make sure that Berwald and the others were all right.

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Alfred's cognitive functions took a long time to catch up with his sight, but when they did catch up he realized where he was and what had happened almost instantly. His back ached and the stream of blood pouring from his arm was on par with the Niagara Falls. His head still spun from when the car rolled, and his stomach still felt like gravity had pushed it up into chest.

"Fuck," Alfred said as he realized exactly where he had ended up after the crash. He was lying in the middle of the woods with the motor from the car lying not even 5 feet away from his head.

He had been thrown.

He dragged himself over to the nearest tree and propped himself up against it, sighing into the cold night air, watching as his breath danced with the breeze. He knew that if he followed the car parts he would get back to the crash site, but part of him didn't want to get back to the crash site. Alfred was afraid of what he would find when he got there. If the car was so destroyed that the motor was lying all the way in the woods, then that couldn't mean anything good for any of his friends. He would much rather settle for not knowing anything than seeing the broken and bloody bodies of the people he had come to see as his own family.

Alfred was about to let his eyes slip closed when he remembered what kind of situation they were really in. There wouldn't be any ambulances and doctors rushing to save them, there wouldn't be curious individuals coming to make sure they were alright, there wouldn't be any kind of help. The only person, or rather, thing that would come to check on them would be the infected, and they would not be there to help them.

At this point, they could only help each other.

The thought of the infected picking at his friends, ripping them apart as they were still alive and incapacitated, finally got Alfred moving away from the large oak tree he was leaning against. Even though pain ripped through his body, he pushed on through it. If a little pain was all it took to save his friends, then he was more than willing to put up with it for their sake.

Alfred walked past the broken motor, hoping that he was heading in the right direction. He made a deal with himself that if he didn't see a car part in 5 minutes, he would turn back and try the other way. Alfred was lucky, however, as he was only a few feet away from the motor when he came across another car part. A van door lay in a crumpled heap, the only semblance it had to the van door was its colour, and a handle that stuck out of the side like a weird mutation.

Alfred looked at the crumpled piece of the vehicle for a long time, looking for blood, hair, or anything that would tell him someone was injured by it. But, lucky for Alfred, there was no trace of the door having caused any damage to anything or anyone but itself.

"Good," Alfred whispered to himself as he staggered further on, hoping to finally break out onto the street soon. Even the familiar moans and groans of the infected would make him feel better at this point. Anything that would help him take his mind off of the possible death of his friends.

That was when Alfred heard it, a voice, completely unfamiliar to him. However, despite this voice being unfamiliar to him, it wasn't the voice of one of the infected creatures. This voice was talking clearly, and whoever it was sounded like they were distressed.

Alfred realized it was probably someone from the other van they had crashed into.

Alfred ran, ignoring the protesting in his limbs as he made his way over to the voice, only slowing to a crawl so as not to scare the person away.

"Who's there?" A small, heavily accented voice called out to him from behind a tree.

"It's – it's alright, I was in the van that hit into yours," Alfred said, "at least I think that was you in the other van."

Everything grew silent as the voice took in what Alfred had said.

Then, suddenly, almost causing Alfred to jump, the person came out from behind the tree. He was a slight man, no taller than 5'5", and he had light auburn hair framing a gentle looking face. However, his face was the last thing Alfred could focus on. This man had a huge gash on his chest, running from his right set of ribs to his left set of ribs. And though the wound was clearly shallow, it still leaked blood like a waterfall. The front of his body was almost drenched in blood.

Alfred swallowed hard, tensing himself as the man got closer and closer.

He stopped, "why did you hit us?"

"Wha-" Alfred started; confused by the question the boy was posing.

"Why did you hit us?"

Alfred felt his heart speed up; he hadn't meant to hit them. He hadn't meant to cause all the damage he had, but he had done it anyway. He had been reckless, and he had caused harm, and possibly death to some innocent people. The only thing he could the tell the – presumably – Italian man in front of him was that he wasn't paying attention to the road.

However, before he could even open his mouth, the Italian man began shooting more questions his way.

"I can't find my big brother," he sobbed, holding his blood stained hands up to his face. "I just got him back, and now I've lost him again."

"I'm sorry," Alfred said, trying to calm the frantic man.

"I can't find anyone," he said, hands clenching into fists before his face. "Everyone is gone, I don't even know where I am. The infected people could have already eaten them all."

"No," Alfred started, waving his hands in front of his chest frantically. "Look, if you follow me, we'll get back to the crash site and look for everyone."

The Italian finally pulled his hands away from his face at this point, gritting his teeth as he looked at Alfred. "Why, you remember where you hit into us?"

Alfred swallowed hard; the face the boy was making didn't suit him at all. Just from looking at him Alfred knew that he wasn't a person who got angry frequently. He had caused this, he had made this gentle spirit a vicious one. "Look," Alfred said, hardening his voice so that the Italian would hear him. "I really didn't mean to hit into you guys, I mean, I had a lot of people in the van with me. There was a baby in there, man; I wouldn't have recklessly put him in danger."

The ferocity in the Italian's eyes seemed to settle, but he still looked wary of Alfred.

"And really, why would I purposely crash into a van with possible survivors in this kind of world? If anything, I would have tried to communicate with you guys. The more survivors, the better. Right? "

The Italian man was quiet after Alfred had finished speaking. All semblance of his anger had disappeared, and now he only seemed depressed, lethargic, like he had completely given up. His shoulders were hunched forward pitifully, and tears continued to race through the blood on his face, creating gruesome tracks on his skin.

"I'm sorry," the Italian man said, "I'm just so tired of all this."

Alfred awkwardly took a few cautious steps forward, clapping his hand on the Italian's shoulder. "It's OK, I think we're all tired of this. It seems to be one tragedy after another."

The Italian sniffed and brought the back of his hand to his eyes, trying to wash the tears away but only managing to smear more blood. "I'm Feliciano," the boy held out his bloody hand to Alfred.

Alfred grabbed his hand despite the blood covering it, figuring there was no point in worrying about touching other people's blood any more He was covered in at least four different people's blood, another wouldn't hurt. "I'm Alfred." Alfred let go of the hand, "now come one, let's go find our friends before those things get to them first."

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"Berwald," Tino called out, racing to the tall blonde man's side. He dropped to his knees beside his fallen form and immediately checked for his pulse. It was steady, normal, but Berwald's eyes remained closed despite this. It was almost as if he was in a deep sleep.

Maybe a state of shock.

Peter gurgled something under his breath and reached out for Berwald, hands gripping his matted blonde locks in two tight fists.

"Peter," Tino whispered harshly, "stop that."

Tino's mistake – which could arguably be seen as a good choice – was scolding the small child. Peter had never taken well to being scolded or being kept from doing something, so when he was scolded, he would cry. It started first with Peter's bottom lip sticking out in a prominent pout, then it went on to Peter's chin quivering.

Then the sobbing started. Low bursts at first, but quickly turning into loud, blatting sobs.

"Oh no, Peter, not now," Tino begged, gathering the child up into a tight embrace, rocking him back and forth in an attempt to calm the hungry, and tired child. However, his coaxing wasn't going to help the child, and he knew this right from the point the child started crying. Not only did Peter not like being scolded, but he was tired and hungry, all of these factors would make it almost impossible to stop the child from crying his eyes out.

While he had expected this right from when he pulled the child out of his crib, he didn't expect it to happen at such an inopportune moment.

What he also didn't expect was the child to bring him good fortune when he began crying.

From behind him he heard the sound of trees rustling, and at the same time, Berwald's eyes finally opened, looking up at him incredulously. Tino looked over his shoulder at the approaching sound, and began frantically speaking to the still somewhat dazed Berwald. "We need to leave, those things are coming and Peter is crying really loud. They're going to have us surrounded in no time."

Berwald looked around himself, blinking the dust out of his eyes and wiping his glasses with the hem of his shirt. Although he seemed to be completely confused, he still listened to Tino's words carefully. He reached his hands out and grabbed the colicky child from Tino, cradling him close to his chest and standing up without any warning. The baby's cries slowly degenerated into nothing but small, occasional whines.

"Where are they?" Berwald asked, looking around them for the threat.

"The woods," Tino said, keeping a steadying hand on Berwald's shoulders.

They both grew silent as they listened to the sounds of the leaves on the trees rustling.

"See," Tino whispered harshly, "now let's go, we shouldn't just wait around for them to come out of there."

Tino started backing up away from the trees, getting ready to leave the scene when Berwald's arm shot out, keeping Tino from running away. And, judging by the lack of haze in Berwald's eyes, it seemed like he remembered that they had been in a severe car crash.

Tino didn't know what Berwald was thinking.

"It might be one of our own," Berwald said.

"We can't take that chance right now, Berwald," Tino said, indicating his leg. "At least, I don't think I can."

Berwald looked down at Tino's wounded leg with shock; he had completely forgot that Tino had been shot.

"OK," Berwald said, grabbing Tino by the arm as he got ready to leave. However, they didn't have time to even get their feet working before whoever, or whatever was in the woods, came bursting out on the other side.

"Thank God," Alfred said through gasping breaths, chest heaving violently as he approached the two blondes. "I was so scared that something bad had happened to everyone."

Tino and Berwald both let out a sigh of relief as Alfred approached them, only to look cautiously at the young man following close behind Alfred.

"Who is that?" Tino asked, taking one step back as he stared at the man with the large gash in his chest.

"He was in the other van," Alfred said without skipping a beat. "I found him in the woods when I woke up."

"You ended up way out in the woods," Tino said incredulously, "and somehow you managed to not have anything broken?"

"I guess not," Alfred said, laughing as he scratched the back of his head uncomfortably. "But I'm glad none of you are hurt either, now it's just a matter of finding the others."

"I know Matthew's alright," Tino said. "He was unconscious when I left him, and he was holding Peter. I was afraid that because he was unconscious he would hurt the baby, or something would happen, so I took Peter away. Sadly, I got chased off, so I don't really know where he is right now."

"Shit," Alfred said, looking down at the debris covered ground as he chewed on his bottom lip. "What about any of the others? Francis?" Alfred seemed to consider something for a while. "Arthur?"

Tino shrugged sadly, "sorry, I don't know. I just found Berwald now, actually." Tino looked past Alfred and back at the younger man again, still worried about his presence. Sure, he looked safe enough, but nobody really knew him. The thing Tino really wanted to know the most was why that van had crashed into them in the first place, and how they hadn't seen their headlights coming or heard the sound of the car approaching them.

It was a cold, quiet night. There was no way they hadn't at least heard them.

However, before Tino could even ask the young man the questions on his mind, the sound of someone – no, a few people - approaching from down the road caught their attention. They all looked up, only to see two familiar faces walking out from the shroud of darkness.

"Antonio," the young man with the cut on his chest said.

"Arthur," Alfred said, voice overlapping Feliciano's.

"Ah, Feliciano," Antonio said happily, running over to the young man's side only to pull back quickly at the sight of the man's gored chest. "Oh my God," Antonio said, squinting as he tried to see the wound through the dark. "Please tell me that's not as deep as it looks from here."

"It's not deep," Feliciano said, reassuring the panicked dark haired man. "It's only a flesh wound, it doesn't matter."

"It doesn't matter?" the dark haired man asked him incredulously. "It's still dangerous and it could still get infected!"

Tino, however, had lost track of their conversation halfway through as Arthur started approaching them, a look of relief present on his face. "Oh thank God, Peter."

Tino smiled at him, "I found him with Matthew, but he was passed out so I thought it would be better to take Peter away."

"You made the right choice," Arthur said, rubbing his little brother's head, putting a smile on the child's tear-swollen face.

"We've found everyone now," Arthur said. "We're all safe."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know guys, I didn't originally plan to have PruCan in here, but I accidentally PruCan'd a little bit because it seemed kind of cute.
> 
> Anyway, it's really up to you guys at this point. Do you want me to continue the love triangle between Prussia, Austria and Hungary? Or, do you want me to continue on with the Prussia/Canada dynamic? Do you want me to involve him in both? Remember, there are very few pairings that I dislike in Hetalia, so I don't really care what you guys decide.
> 
> You need to comment, though, and choose wisely because whoever you choose decides the fate of the Awesome Prussia!


	14. Pray

Lovino woke up every now and again to the sound of feet hitting the ground, and the feeling of his body being rocked back and forth. He wasn't awake enough to put two-and-two together, and he didn't have the mind to care. The only thing Lovino wanted to do was sleep, sleep forever and forget everything he had been through.

If only he could.

Lovino awoke to the same sound of feet hitting the ground, except this time it was different. The sound was louder, heavier, almost as if it were echoing around him off of ceramic walls. He opened his eyes - just a peek - to see what was causing the sound. Around him Lovino saw walls, white walls coated in thick red blood. He was surrounded, lying in the middle of the floor drenched in blood as infected patients got ready to prey on him. He was defenceless, hopeless, and filled with absolute fear.

One of them walked forward, just one, through the crowd. It stumbled to his side, its gait impeded by its two broken feet. Then it stopped, right in front of Lovino, it just stopped.

Lovino looked up through his dirty hair, willing himself to look at the creature that would, for some reason, not attack him.

He looked up and locked eyes with Antonio.

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Lovino awoke from his dead sleep with a loud gasp, looking around himself frantically for the infected that had been surrounding him. He looked up with a cringe, thinking that he was going to meet Antonio's dead eyes again.

He did meet Antonio like he thought, however, his eyes no longer had the cool, glazed over look that Lovino had remembered.

"It was just a dream, Lovi," Antonio soothed, sitting down beside Lovino carefully.

Lovino looked down at where he was sitting. He was sitting on a bed, a comfortable one at that, and the walls were no longer white. The walls were wooden and colourless, there was carpet on the floor, and not a speck of blood could be seen anywhere around the room. He was no longer in the hospital, he could tell just by the smell.

"We had a car accident after we left the hospital," Antonio said slowly so Lovino could keep up with him.

"How i-" Lovino started frantically, ready to jump out of the bed.

"Everyone's fine," Antonio said, gripping Lovino's forearm to stop him from leaving the bed. "There were injuries, but none of them were severe."

Lovino finally settled at this, slowly letting out a deep breath as he sunk back into the pillows behind him. They were so comfortable, he just wanted to sleep more.

Sleep forever.

Lovino's eyes started closing, but before he could completely fall asleep again, Antonio started speaking from his side.

"You can't go back to sleep yet, Lovi," Antonio said, shaking Lovino's arm so he would stay awake.

Lovino bit his bottom lip in frustration. Why couldn't he just sleep? What harm would it do if he slept for a little while longer? He had been on the run for so long that he hadn't even had time to sleep properly. He was still sick, at that.

"I want you to eat something first," Antonio said, "it's been a really long time since you've eaten, right? You can go back to sleep after you have something to eat."

At the mention of food, Lovino finally started realizing how hungry he truly was. He felt his stomach grumble uncontrollably under his hands at Antonio's words.

"You need to take your medicine too, you're getting better but you're still not completely healed yet."

Lovino sighed miserably, "you're really annoying, you know that, right?"

Antonio laughed, "I get that from patients a lot, actually." Antonio reached down for something beside him and brought up a sandwich and a bottle of water. "It's not much, but it's better than nothing." He handed it over to Lovino, watching him eagerly.

"Can you not watch me eat, asshole?" Lovino asked, still too tired to find it in himself to fight harder.

"Sorry," Antonio said, turning his head to look at a notepad in his hand. "I'm just really happy that you're alright, that's all."

Lovino scoffed around the mouth of the water bottle, but despite this, felt a small pang of happiness in his chest.

Antonio didn't speak again as he scratched away at the notepad in his lap, humming to himself quietly as Lovino ate. Lovino felt increasingly uncomfortable at the silence of the other man, so he initiated the conversation this time. "Where are we?" He finally asked.

Antonio laughed from beside him, "we're in the closed hotel where your brother and the other survivors had been staying."

"Is it safe?"

"As safe as anything can be in this world," Antonio said, looking back at his notepad again with a deep crease in his brows.

"What happened after the crash? No wait, scratch that, what exactly caused the accident in the first place?"

"We hit another van," Antonio said calmly, "there were other survivors in there." Antonio was quiet for moment, then added, almost as if an afterthought, "they even had a baby with them."

Lovino swallowed hard, trying to pretend that it was food having a hard time going down. He didn't want to ask, really, but he knew he was going to get the answer one way or another. "Is the baby alright?"

Antonio looked away from him notepad, a smile on his face, "not a scratch, Lovi. Like I said, no one was hurt very badly in the accident."

"Not even my brother?"

"No, he was actually right next to you not even 10 minutes ago."

Lovino finished up the sandwich in his hands and handed the half empty water bottle over to Antonio. He had wanted to go back to sleep before, but now he found he was more awake than ever. He wanted to walk around, find his brother, and thank the people who had helped he and Antonio escape. Of course, despite being extremely grateful to them, his form of 'thank you' would no doubt sound insulting to the others.

He had a hard time expressing himself.

Lovino shifted his body to the edge of the bed adjacent to Antonio and stood up, stretching cautiously. His limbs were sore from all the running, and with his added sickness it didn't help. He felt like he had just come from having the workout of his life, except he wasn't feeling a good burn.

Then he noticed the smell.

Five, or more, days of not showering seemed to do that to people. His body reeked, he smelled of dirt, sweat, and worst of all, he smelled like a rotting corpse. Lovino felt the food he had eaten trying to work its way back up his throat, and he found himself sitting back down on the edge of the bed as he tried to gain his bearings again. He dry-heaved once, but was stopped when Antonio pressed the mouth of the water bottle back to his lips.

"I know," Antonio said, rubbing circles into his back soothingly, "I felt the same way." Antonio pulled the water bottle away when Lovino had taken three large gulps, "there's a shower behind the door right next to us, you'll feel much better when you've washed up. I know I did."

Lovino wanted to say something bitter to Antonio, but found he couldn't find it in himself to do so. The man had saved his life numerous times, and he had taken care of him despite how much of a burden he had been. He couldn't get mad. He wasn't allowed to get mad.

Antonio smiled and straightened his back, "I'll leave clothes out for you on the bed when you get out, and if you feel like it, after you're done you can come downstairs and meet the rest of the group."

Lovino nodded, swallowing hard as he tried to work up the energy to say thank you. However, he couldn't find it in himself to say it to the man's face.

He watched as the man's back retreated, opening the door leading to the outside and closing it behind him quietly.

"Thank you," Lovino said to no one.

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Lovino was shocked when he walked out of the room, he had expected it to be night time when he walked out but instead he was met with warm, bright sunlight indicating the early morning. It filtered through large windows and painted the chestnut coloured wood on the floor in long fluorescent stripes. Lovino walked up to the bannister overlooking the lobby and stood directly in the sun's rays, soaking in the warmth the early morning had to offer him. It had been so long since he had seen the sun, and for a long time he had thought that he would never see them again. He sucked in a deep breath of air and let it out slowly, never wanting to leave his post.

"Hello," Lovino heard from behind him, a woman's voice, gentle and sweet.

He didn't turn around as he heard the person approaching him and eventually coming to stand next to him in the sunlight. She looked like she hadn't seen the sun in a long while too. He deemed her harmless.

"I'm Elizaveta," the soft voice said. "Most people call me Liza, though."

"Lovino," he said simply.

He didn't mind her presence; she was quiet and still, and seemed to be there for same reasons as Lovino. She just wanted to take in the sun and the quiet peace of the morning just like he did.

They stood in silence for a long time, so long that the bright yellow rays of the sun were starting to turn orange with the evening. They had been standing there for so long that Lovino was close to dozing off again, at least until he heard another unfamiliar voice pipe up from behind the two of them.

He hadn't even heard this person approaching.

"Elizaveta?" The voice asked incredulously, feet clapping harshly against the ground as whoever it was approached frantically.

"Roderich," Elizaveta responded happily, leaving her place by the bannister to greet the person who had interrupted their quiet refuge.

Lovino listened absently as clothes rustled, indicating that the pair were greeting each other in a hug. He felt his eyes slipping closed again now that he knew the new voice was not a threat to either of them. He listened to the steady drum of his heart, relishing in the heat that the sun's rays left on his cool, pale cheeks.

"And you must be the patient that escaped with the nurse," the voice said cautiously, as if he were afraid Lovino would jump at him. He wondered absently if Feliciano or the nurse had said something about his short attitude.

Lovino turned around slowly, finally meeting eyes with the source of the nasally voice. He was met with the sight of a clean cut man who had short – but stylish – dark brown hair. He also had spectacles that kept falling forward on his nose, causing the man to push them up absently. He looked snooty, but Lovino decided that he wasn't in the mood or the frame of mind to be picking a fight with anyone.

"Lovino," he said, feeling his lip twitch hard – despite his resolve – at the man's bored expression.

"Well, Lovino," the man said with a lilt to his voice, "everyone is waiting for you downstairs, so I suggest you go down to meet them."

Lovino sighed, there always had to be one person that was hard to get along with. And, even though Lovino considered himself to be one of those people, he was never snooty or uppity about himself. He just didn't get along well with people, that was all. But, despite his annoyance with the man, he left without another word. The last thing he needed to do was start a fight within a group he wasn't even familiar with.

He would let it go, for now.

Lovino took to the stairs and left the woman and the man alone. He had been planning of leaving anyway. The two at the top of the stairs seemed to be more than friendly with each other, so he didn't want to intrude or hear anything he didn't want to.

The wood on the stairs creaked and cracked beneath his feet, it was clearly old and worn out wood, the hotel itself was clearly very old. It seemed like it hadn't been maintained in years.

When he got to the bottom of the stairs he found himself sighing in relief. He had been on the run for so long that he felt like if he made any unnecessary noise or movements he would attract a crowd of the infected. He had been holding his breath the whole way down.

He was only wearing socks, but the ceramic tiles were still warm from bathing in the sunlight. It was perfect. It was safe, warm, there were beds and food to eat, it was like a heaven compared to the harsh outdoors and the hospital.

"Lovino," he heard from beside him. This time it was a voice that was all too familiar. A voice that made his chest warm and a smile come to his face.

His little brother.

He didn't even have time to turn around fully before his brother lunged at him, wrapping his slim arms around his neck and embracing him in a tight hug.

"Oh, Lovi, I'm so glad you're finally here," Feliciano said, sniffling as he tried to hold back tears.

"Stupid little brother," Lovino said, wrenching his brothers arms away from his neck so he could kiss his brother's cheeks. He smiled when tears started spilling down his brother's cheeks. "You were always such a big cry baby," he said, wiping the tears away from under his brother's eyes. Lovino himself felt like he wanted to cry, but stopped himself. He wanted to have a real reunion with his little brother. He didn't want to be a sobbing mess like he was when he had finally escaped from the hospital. And he knew that if he started crying, he wouldn't be able to stop.

When Feliciano finally stopped crying, he stepped back from his brother, scrutinizing his appearance carefully. "You look a lot better than when I first saw you, Lovi."

"I'm feeling better," he said simply.

"Good," Feliciano said, grabbing him by the hem of his shirt. "Then follow me, I want you to meet everybody, there's even more survivors than last time." Lovino followed behind his brother obediently, in no mood to be fighting with his brother about treating him like a baby.

As they approached the end of the lobby with two large adjoining doors, Lovino started hearing other voices spilling through the cracks in the door. And, even though he knew they were normal voices, he felt his heart speed up significantly, punching painfully against his already sore ribs.

He stopped.

"Lovino?" Feliciano asked nervously, turning around when he felt his brother stopping their course.

Lovino tried to calm his frantic heart and answered his brother as calmly as possible, "never mind, it's nothing." Lovino started again, pushing his brother's hand away and walking ahead of him. He didn't need to be worried anymore, they were safe now. At least for the time being.

He came to a halt in front of the dark, wooden doors as he waited for his little brother to catch up with him.

"Push on them and they swing open really easily," Feliciano said, demonstrating how to open them as if Lovino needed a visual display.

"Idiot," Lovino said as he gave one gentle push to the two doors.

The people in the room opposite to Lovino grew silent when they saw him, there were far more people than Lovino had envisioned. The van that they had hit must have been filled.

"He really does look like his brother," a voice, a loud and obnoxious one, blatted through the room, breaking the awkward silence that had befallen them.

"Lovino," Antonio said excitedly, "I thought you had fallen asleep again!"

The room started to bustle again, this time with questions for Lovino. They asked questions about the hospital, about his brother, about Italy, they even asked about his work in seminary.

"So you're actually a priest, right?" One voice, that happened to be louder than the rest, asked him. The voice in question belonged to a young blonde man with rimless glasses.

"Um, no," Lovino said, uncomfortable with the question, it was something he usually chose not to talk about. "I'm still in seminary."

Everyone got quiet when he finally started talking, and a man with a shock of white-blonde hair and bandages over his eyes pulled out a chair for him to sit down on.

"So, does that mean you're something like a priest in training?" The same blonde man with the glasses asked.

"Something like that," Lovino answered, trying to hold down his irritation at the man's ignorance. He didn't want, or need, to start off his first meeting with them with an argument or a fight. Lovino was about to explain himself more, however, he found himself looking at Antonio, who had a quizzical look on his face.

"You're in the seminary, Lovi?" The way Antonio said it made him sound almost disappointed or sad.

"Y-yeah, I am in the seminary," Lovino said, "I don't know why I never brought that up."

Antonio was quiet for a moment as he took in this new information, at first he looked upset, almost disturbed by the news, but his expression slowly started morphing into something of a bemused grin. "I had no idea," Antonio said, "no wonder why you kept carrying that rosary around with you; you even held it when you were sleeping."

Lovino smiled and patted his breast pocket, rosary tucked neatly inside.

It had been a gift from his younger brother; he had given it to Lovino before he went away to seminary. Lovino remembered telling his brother that it was stupid, and stuffed it into his things as if he didn't really care about it, when in truth he had loved it. Each bead had been carved strategically into the shape of a rose, and each silver link was polished into something that resembled a shining diamond. He cherished it and treated it as if it was the most important and expensive object he owned.

In truth, it really was the most important object he owned.

Lovino hadn't even noticed Feliciano walking up behind him before he felt his lithe arms wrap around his chest, hugging him close from behind. Normally, he would have protested Feliciano's childish behaviour, but at this point he could only return the hug. In their new world, he could lose Feliciano at any given time; he needed to cherish their moments together like every moment was their last. So, instead of batting Feliciano's hands away like he normally would have he grasped Feliciano's hands in his own.

At this point everyone in the room started talking again, this time arguing about how long it took for a student to become a priest. Eventually it branched into a talk about choir boys, but at that point Lovino wasn't even paying attention anymore. He craned his neck to stare at his brother.

"Come to the roof with me, Lovino," Feliciano whispered in his ear, before grabbing Lovino by the shirt sleeve and dragging him behind him. They slipped out of the room quickly without garnering any attention, Lovino following behind Feliciano without questioning him.

When they finally got the stairs, passing by Elizaveta and Roderich without a word, Feliciano finally began speaking to him again.

"There's no one on the roof right now because everyone is downstairs," Feliciano chuckled. "Heracles is usually up there keeping a lookout, but he's downstairs with everyone else and Ludwig is keeping watch from the fifth balcony."

"Is it really safe to be hanging around outside," Lovino asked with a quirk of his brow, "I mean, won't they smell us?"

Feliciano was quiet for a moment, huffing as he worked open a locked door. When he opened it, however, he turned around to face Lovino with a smile, "I thought that at first too, but Heracles said that the smell of the bay and the draft wafting off of it would keep them from smelling us."

Lovino hummed under his breath, it seemed like the group was much smarter than he had initially thought. He followed Feliciano into the locked room, and followed him up a weak looking ladder that led them into an attic-like storage room.

He marked that it would be a good place for all of them to hide.

Then it hit Lovino as he started following his brother up a set of loud, rusted metal stairs.

"Ludwig," Lovino said, as if tasting the name. For some reason, the name didn't sit well with him at all.

"Yes, what about Ludwig?" Feliciano asked, panting quietly as he made his way up the weakening steps. His shoulders were angled forward, meaning that he was expecting to be yelled at and scolded by his older brother.

"Isn't that a German name?" Lovino asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he continued to follow behind his little brother.

"It is a German name, Lovi," Feliciano stopped dead in his tracks, and turned on his heels to face his older brother properly. "But he's not a bad guy, Lovino, I promise you."

"How can you know that after only a few days?" Lovino asked, cocking his hip out to the left to show his irritation to his younger brother. "He's a German after all, they're good at deceit."

Feliciano looked hurt at this, "that's awful, Lovi, you're going to be a priest and yet you're standing here judging one of God's children without any reason."

"I do have a reason."

"No, you don't, Lovi. The war ended a very long time ago, and that generation of German's died along with it. And let's not forget to mention the fact that there were still good people among them, even during that time." Feliciano turned his back to his brother, continuing to trudge up the stairs toward the door leading to the roof. "He saved your life, you could at least give him that much, big brother."

'Big brother,' that expression was solely used when Feliciano was becoming serious.

Feliciano stopped in front of the door and reached out for the handle, but, before he could even grasp it in his hands Lovino sped up his gait and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, spinning him around and pressing him against the wall. "That man didn't save my life," Lovino spat. "Antonio saved my life."

Feliciano looked back into his brother's eyes; however this time when he looked back they were no longer teary and sad looking, they looked serious and determined, an expression not often seen on Feliciano's face. So, with that, Lovino decided to drop it, he didn't want to start a fight with his brother so soon after being reunited with him. He also knew by the expression on Feliciano's face that he would not let Lovino get the better of him where this German was concerned, for whatever reason.

Lovino backed up from where he had Feliciano pressed against the wall, fixed the collar of Feliciano's shirt, and composed himself. He smiled at his younger brother and indicated the door, "lead the way then, Feli."

Feliciano smiled, despite his rising defiance, and completely put their argument behind him.

That was the good thing about Feliciano, probably his best characteristic. No matter how many times someone wronged him, and no matter who they were, he would find it in himself to completely forgive them. That was what Lovino loved about his brother, and simultaneously hated about him.

Lovino watched Feliciano's retreating back as he opened the door to the roof, all the while thinking to himself about the German, and his older brother, too. The albino one with the snotty attitude, he hadn't liked him either. And, according to him, both were far too friendly with his younger brother. No matter how much his little brother protested, he wouldn't let those two relationships continue.

"Come on," Feliciano said from the half-open door, voice waking Lovino up from his silent daze. Lovino shook his head and followed behind his brother, walking out into the warmth of the roof. A cool breeze whipped through his hair as soon as he walked out, treading through his damp locks and sending a pleasant chill shooting down his spine. Even though the wind was cold, and even though it made Goosebumps rise on his arms, he cherished the feeling. It felt good because, for a long time, he never thought he would even feel the wind against his skin again.

And, to add to the feeling, the wind didn't smell like he had originally expected it to smell. He had been in the hospital for so long that he had expected the draft to carry the smell of death on it. He had expected to smell rotting bodies, death, and sadness, but instead he found himself smelling the familiar scents of the Earth and the Ocean. They were good smells, smells that he missed very much. He stopped just to take in the fresh scent of the pine trees, another smell that he had completely forgotten during his time in the hospital with Antonio. Feliciano didn't disturb him this time, instead he watched his brother silently from where he sat on top of the concrete roof, he was just happy that his brother was starting to feel better, more like himself. He just hoped that his brother would forget the incidence with the children in the maternity ward.

When Lovino finally came back to himself, and stopped staring straight up at the sun as if it would disappear, Feliciano called out to him and patted the ground beside him. "Come, pray with me."

Lovino smiled and nodded, pulling the rosary out of his breast pocket so he could pray with his younger brother. It had been very long since he had prayed, let alone with his younger brother.

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Antonio hadn't even noticed Lovino and Feliciano were gone until he looked up from where he was re-dressing Gilbert's head wound. After he cut the fabric and secured it, he looked up intending to tell Lovino a joke that had come to mind, only to realize that the boy, and his brother, were nowhere in sight.

He wasn't worried, he knew that they had probably run off to be alone, but he wanted to find them and check up on Lovino despite this. He was still sick after all, he couldn't over-exert himself.

So Antonio set off in search of the two Italians, leaving Matthew with the responsibility of dressing Gilbert's remaining wounds. However, he was having a hard time finding them, and was finding himself increasingly worried about the two of them. He kept thinking about the worst case scenarios, thinking things like: What if Lovino and Feliciano decided to go outside? What if Lovino tried to attempt suicide? What if he already had and Feliciano had followed behind because he couldn't bear the idea of being without his older brother?

He shook it off quickly, however, because if he knew one thing about religion, it was that committing suicide was against everything any religion believed in.

At least, he hoped so.

He looked through the various rooms being occupied by the survivors, he looked through unoccupied rooms, and he knocked on the doors of the ones that were locked. He couldn't find anything. He was beginning to panic, whispering words of encouragement to himself in an attempt to calm himself down.

"What about the roof?" A soft, calm voice suggested from behind him.

Antonio turned around, only to be faced with Heracles, the man whose voice guided them back to the hotel safely after the crash. Antonio smiled at him in greeting, "thanks, I should have thought about that before I started worrying." Antonio scratched the back of his head in embarrassment at getting frantic so easily, "sorry, I jus-"

"It's fine," the man said, returning his smile, "I understand."

Antonio's hand dropped to his side and he let out a small sigh of relief, the last thing he needed was the group starting to think he was mentally unstable. "Thanks," Antonio said again before turning on his heels and leaving for the top floor.

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Lovino and Feliciano were both so deep in prayer that they hadn't even realized someone had walked onto the roof. Antonio stood there, watching them quietly as they prayed together.

Lovino had his hands clasped around his brother's, and the rosary was wrapped tight around their entwined hands. Their foreheads were pressed together so close that there would no doubt be a deep red mark on their forehead's when they finished their prayers. They were praying like they had when they were children. Feliciano had suggested it first, saying that it would be nice to pray the way they used to. Lovino had protested the idea at first, but he eventually gave in to his brother's wishes.

Antonio was so close that he could hear Lovino's words over the sound of the wind, in fact, his words flowed together with the wind as if they were one. And though Antonio was in no way a religious man, he listened, enthralled, as Lovino prayed.

_"O God whose only begotten Son has purchased for us the rewards of eternal life, Grant that we beseech Thee while meditating upon these mysteries of the Most Holy Rosary of the Blessed Virgin Mary, we may both imitate what they contain and obtain what they promise, through the same Christ our Lord Amen."_ Lovino finished, and both Feliciano and he shut their eyes tight. Then, after what felt like hours, Lovino and Feliciano both opened their eyes, looking at each other as if they had just finally met. Lovino closed their entwined hands in a fist, and brought Feliciano's own hands up to his mouth, kissing them and the rosary encircling them.

Only then did they both notice Antonio's presence.

Antonio locked eyes with Lovino, and for one horrifying moment he was worried that Lovino was going to snap knowing that Antonio had seen such an intimate exchange, however he was pleasantly surprised when Lovino's calm expression remained unchanged.

They stared at each other for so long that Feliciano himself began growing uncomfortable, and he eventually unravelled the rosary around he and brother's hands. "I'm going to go check on everyone else," Feliciano said, smile still present despite his obvious discomfort. "I'll leave you two alone for a little while, you probably have a lot to talk about."

And with that Feliciano was gone.

Antonio waited until he heard the sound of Feliciano's feet clapping against the metal stairs before he approached Lovino. He sat down in front of him, propping himself up on his hands and staring at the sky, the sky that he hadn't seen in such a long time.

"Thank you," Lovino said after what seemed like hours of silence.

Antonio looked down at the young Italian, "thank you for what, exactly?"

"Thank you for," Lovino made a wide gesture with his hands as he tried to come out with the words, "for saving me, I guess."

Antonio laughed, "I didn't really help all that much, Lovi."

Lovino sighed, "you heroic types always try to shake off the 'thank you' part." Lovino crossed his legs underneath him, positioning his elbows on his legs and propping his head up on his splayed palms. "The least you could do is accept my 'thank you' with a 'you're welcome.'"

Antonio smiled at Lovino, "you're welcome, Lovi."

"I'm not letting that nickname slide, however."

Antonio laughed again, "I'm sorry, I'll try not to use it anymore."

"Good," Lovino grumbled as he tried to fix a stray hair trying to stand up on the side of his head.

Antonio liked what he was seeing in Lovino. It was true, he had thought Lovino was beautiful even in the hospital, but now he was truly a sight to behold. He was already beginning to get a light tan from being exposed to the sun for a few hours, his face no longer looked as gaunt, and his hair maintained a healthy auburn shine. There was only one thing nagging at Antonio, and that was the praying and the fact that he was in seminary.

He couldn't think about a holy man like that, and he was certain a man in seminary would never think about him in that way.

"So you're in seminary," Antonio said conversationally, trying to get the boy speaking to him again.

"Was," Lovino corrected, "with the apocalypse happening, I don't think I'll be going back any time soon."

"That's true," Antonio chuckled. "But how is that, did you have a calling, or something like that?"

Lovino looked up from where he was picking at the hem of his shirt, regarding Antonio with a cocked brow, "why do you care?"

"I'm just curious," Antonio said, "that's all."

Lovino scoffed, "well, if you're that curious, then I guess it wouldn't hurt to tell you. It is the end of the world, after all, it's not going to hurt me."

Antonio listened keenly as Lovino began speaking.

"There was no calling, really, never has been," Lovino shrugged. "The thing is, I wasn't talented enough in anything to actually be considered 'good', so I decided, 'hey, why not', and went into Theology." Lovino uncrossed his legs and stretched them out toward Antonio, "my brother's the talented one, everything I was good at, he was better…"

"Lov-"

"Ah," Lovino said, "you wanted to listen to my story, didn't you?"

"Yeah," Antonio laughed, "sorry, I won't cut you off again."

Lovino nodded his head and continued, "it sounds selfish, but I knew that going to seminary would really get my parent's attention, especially my grandfather's – that's the attention I really cared about. But, it turns out I didn't really get the attention I was hoping for," Lovino laughed bitterly, "they laughed at me instead. They couldn't believe that someone as foul-mouthed and bad-mannered as me could become a priest." A large gust of wind blew by, causing shivers to wrack both Antonio and Lovino's bodies. "But, even though I didn't get the attention I wanted, I went to seminary anyway, except this time I went to prove them wrong."

Antonio was quiet, waiting to see if Lovino would continue, but he didn't. It seemed that that was all that Lovino was willing to tell him about himself. Antonio could deal with that, but he hoped he could eventually get more out of him.

"So, you didn't really go to seminary because you had a calling?" Antonio asked incredulously, shocked that someone would put themselves through so much just to prove their family wrong.

"Not at all," Lovino said. "I mean, I find comfort in praying, but it's kind of stupid because I don't even believe in what I'm praying to."

Antonio was shocked, so shocked that he couldn't even think about what to say in response to everything Lovino had told him. What he had been told made him sad, upset, but it also filled him with a small, guilty, feeling of happiness.

He tried to tell himself that it was wrong, and that it would be wrong to pursue someone with such a holy background, but he couldn't stop his mind from wandering at the possibilities. He was so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn't even noticed Lovino leaning over him.

"This doesn't leave the roof," Lovino said seriously. "Even my little brother doesn't know this, and it would disappoint him if he knew, do you hear me?"

Antonio nodded his head sharply, barely registering what Lovino had said to him. Lovino nodded his head in satisfaction after he shared his words with Antonio and he promptly left to be with the rest of the group.

Antonio stayed on top of the roof until nightfall, thinking about the Italian boy with the most beautiful face he had ever seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ask and you shall receive!
> 
> Someone asked me if I could do a Lovino POV chapter, so I made a chapter from - mostly - Lovino's point of view.
> 
> It's currently 5 in the morning (I'm making the best of my insomnia) so I'm going to make this little update quick.
> 
> I'm just going to go ahead with the PruCan because - for the most part - the most of you seem to be in favour of PruCan. And, to be honest, I really don't like writing love triangles! You're probably wondering, 'what about FraNada?' but don't worry, I have something planned here. Hehe.
> 
> I also wanted to tell you guys that the next few chapters - I'd say two or three chapters - are going to be for character development! After that we're going to finally slip into the new, more action-packed, arc.
> 
> Boy, do I have some things planned for you guys! 
> 
> I hope you like governor-like villains!


	15. Maple Syrup

It took everything Gilbert had left of his energy to not groan out loud into the cool night air when he realized he had awoken in the middle of the night with pain beyond anything he could describe. His head was throbbing like nothing he had ever felt before, and he was still deeply disturbed by the day's events. He and Roderich had gotten into a big fight after Elizaveta had woken up. They argued about who would watch her during her recovery and who wouldn't.

Roderich had come out the victor because of Gilbert's head wound.

Speaking of the head wound; Gilbert got out of his bed and walked into the bathroom, lighting a match so as not to use unnecessary energy. The bandage around his head and left eye was drenched again. Gilbert looked around himself for a first aid kit, but sadly for him, there wasn't one in sight. He knew the nurse would have it, but he didn't want to bother him. The man had looked disturbed when he had returned from the roof.

Gilbert sighed, and almost resigned himself to his bloody, sticky fate when he remembered the bespectacled boy with the blonde hair – Matthew, had been his name. So, instead of giving up and sleeping with blood matted hair, Gilbert left his room in search of Matthew.

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Matthew never particularly liked being alone, but he also didn't like being around a large group of people. He would be more than pleased to settle for the happy median, maybe just with one or two people, but that was never possible. No one really wanted to be alone with Matthew for so long. Matthew himself could never quite pinpoint what it was that made being friends with him seem so unappealing; he knew that he was boring and too quiet for anyone's tastes, but he wanted to know – really know – what made him so invisible and unappealing to others.

Matthew was just about to pack it in for the night when an answer to his questions – to his annoyance – came barrelling through the door with a blood soaked bandage wrapped around his head. "Oh my God," Matthew started, backing away from the gruesome sight and, in the process, slamming into the cupboard with a loud crash.

"Whoa, relax," the man with the head wound said, raising his hands to show that he meant no harm. "Don't you remember me, you were the one who put these on me?"

"Oh," Matthew said, willing his speeding heart to slow down to an even pace. He was so lost in his thoughts when he had entered the room that he had forgotten the completely unique man he had tended to earlier in the day. He was surprised at himself. Matthew had never seen an actual, true-blue, albino before, and here he was already forgetting he had met one. It was probably due to the fact that he was still very shaken up from the car wreck.

As Matthew thought this over he found himself staring in the man's abnormal pink eyes. The eyes in question were completed with dark red pupils; they looked so otherworldly and foreign. He found himself staring at the man's one revealed eye peeking out from under the bandage, his own eyes wide and mouth gaping as he stared.

Matthew was not exactly the king of inconspicuousness.

Before he could stop himself, the man with the white-blonde hair began laughing raucously, rousing him from his trance. "Creepy, I know," he laughed, "a lot of people have a hard time getting past it."

Matthew looked down, ashamed that he had been caught staring at the man like he was some sort of alien. Even though Matthew himself didn't quite understand the feeling of being stared at, he did understand that being treated like an outcast didn't feel very good. "I'm sorry, it's just very unique. You don't see a man with pink eyes everyday, after all."

Gilbert laughed, turning a chair around and taking a seat in front of Matthew, "it's fine, it's fine, I can't blame people for looking. Seeing someone with pink eyes is a once in a lifetime kind of deal."

Matthew really didn't know what to say to the man, the only thing he could do was nod at him and try not to make eye contact.

"I'm Gilbert," the man stated, hand reaching out from behind the chair, "friendly neighbourhood albino."

Matthew chuckled lightly, taking the man's hand in his own and chancing a look back up at his face, he was smiling brightly. "My name's Matthew."

"Pleased to meet you, Matthew," Gilbert said, "now, if it's not too much trouble, could you re-wrap my bandages?"

"U-uh yeah, of course," Matthew scrambled around the room for the first aid kit he had put away, "sorry, I'm kind of a little scattered right now."

"It's fine," Gilbert said, laying his head down on his crossed arms as he watched Matthew scramble for the first-aid kit, "I have forever to wait now."

After some frantic rummaging, and a few confused head-scratches later, Matthew remembered he had put the first-aid kit on the chair he had been sitting on. He lightly slapped his open palm into his face and lifted the first-aid kit out from his chair before resting it in front of Gilbert.

"Scatterbrain are you?" Gilbert asked from his perch as he toyed with a piece of broken wood protruding from the chair he was sitting on.

Matthew chuckled nervously, "I'm actually normally really organized, but I guess the apocalypse does that to you…"

Gilbert laughed heartily at this, surprising Matthew by clapping a hand on his back, "the apocalypse clearly did that to me too, but slamming my head into hard cement pretty much took the cake." Gilbert brought his hand back and rested it in his lap, "I guess I'm screwed both ways from Sunday."

Matthew chuckled at the man's humour despite his precarious situation, he wished he could be so jolly during such a bad time. If he had hit his head in such a way, damaging his vision so severely, he probably would have given himself up to one of the infected. Being disabled during such a dangerous time almost spelled death, considering that a perfectly healthy human being was already at a loss.

Matthew shook his head at the dark thoughts, instead occupying his mind with taking care of dressing Gilbert's wounds. Antonio had shown him how to do it properly, and how to wash the wound without causing too much pain, but he wasn't an expert like Antonio was. He was a law student, not a medical student, after all. Matthew grabbed one end of the bloodied bandage and began unravelling it, slowly revealing the deep gash on the side of Gilbert's head.

To his relief, it looked a little better. The wound was nowhere near healed, but it was already starting to scab over, and it looked pretty clear of infection. He hadn't even heard himself sigh happily until Gilbert piped up from underneath him.

"I'm guessing by that sound you just made that I'm not looking at a bad case of gangrene destroying me in the near future?" Gilbert asked, voice unwavering even as he held his own bloodied bandages in his outstretched hands.

Matthew was surprised, to say the least, by the man's resilience. He had a head wound that was probably incredibly painful, and probably a major headache from the pressure. He was also, most likely, going through a bad case of nausea due to his scrambled vision to boot. Matthew turned away from the man and reached for the saline, picking it up between lithe fingers and holding it close to Gilbert's head. "Tilt your head to the right," Matthew said.

Gilbert complied without a word, leaning over to the right and using the back of the chair he was sitting on as leverage.

Matthew poured the cold saline on the wound and listened to the sound of Gilbert hissing, trying desperately to suppress the shout that wanted to escape. It seemed he was far more affected by the wound than what Matthew had originally thought; the man was just good at hiding it.

Matthew stopped with the saline, re-covering the bottle and returning with a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and cotton balls. And, while he dabbed away at the wound, wiping away the pus that surfaced with the hydrogen peroxide, he began to ask Gilbert how he was feeling. He was not a nurse like Antonio by any means, but he could at least ask how Gilbert was feeling. "Are you feeling pain?" Matthew asked, as if the answer were not already a given.

"A little," Gilbert lied, "mostly in my head and my neck."

"Your neck too?"

"Probably whip lash," Gilbert said with a shrug, "you get thrown from a car head first into the pavement, there are usually a few other problems you'll run into besides a bad concussion."

Matthew didn't say anything at this comment, and continued asking the man questions. "What about your eyesight, is any of it coming back?"

Gilbert nodded, hissing when the motion caused the cotton ball on the side of his head to slip and lift some of the scab. However, he continued speaking despite the obvious pain it caused him. "My right eye is getting much better, my left eye though…" To demonstrate, Gilbert brought a hand up and covered his right eye, "I can barely see out of the left eye, the most I can make out are outlines of things. It's just a blur."

Matthew didn't really need to ask to get the answer to his question, he could clearly see the vision loss in Gilbert's eyes. His right eye was still dilated, but nowhere near as dilated as his left eye. This indicated a severe head injury - and in this case - vision deterioration.

Antonio had made it sound so much lighter – so much less scary – when he had put it to words for the rest of the group. He had made it sound like it wasn't a severe injury. This was most likely to not cause his younger, burlier brother to stir, however, because when he got Matthew alone he had told him to make sure he came to get him if Gilbert started talking about a heavy pressure on the back of his head or if he started saying unintelligible things.

Brain swelling, that was the thing Antonio was worried about. Matthew knew this without asking Antonio for specifics about the kind of pain.

"Are you feeling any pressure," Matthew began, "on the back of your head?"

Gilbert laughed, causing Matthew to look at him quizzically, "my brain's not swelling, no."

"That's n-"

"It's your job to ask that question," Gilbert said, "why are you trying to apologize to me?"

"I'm sorry," Matthew said, head down.

Gilbert laughed again, this time even louder than before, "you really do apologize a lot for someone that's done nothing wrong."

Matthew hesitated, trying to stop himself from saying sorry again, and looked back up at Gilbert, "I guess it's a habit."

"You were about to say sorry again, weren't you?" Gilbert said with a smile, then cringed when the motion caused the tender skin on his head to pull. "Saying sorry isn't a bad habit, but it could be if you said it at the wrong time."

"How could you say sorry at the wrong time?" Matthew asked absently as he pulled a long roll of gauze out from the inside of the first aid kit.

"Well," Gilbert began casually, "you have great sex, and then you apologize? That kind of confidence is not going to go over well."

Matthew felt himself visually redden at how easily the words rolled off of the Albino's tongue, and to hide his embarrassment he found himself wrapping the gauze around Gilbert's head quickly. He didn't know why he found himself so embarrassed, he had heard Alfred – all of his house mates, in fact – say far more obscene things than this man had just said.

It was probably the fact that no one ever put him into the equation before. However, Matthew couldn't pretend that an image hadn't flashed in his mind of the muscled albino leaning over him…

"Ouch," Gilbert protested, reaching up to grab Matthew's hand. Matthew hadn't noticed that he had been winding the bandage so tight around Gilbert's wound. "Are you trying to finish the job that the pavement couldn't?"

"Sor-" Matthew started, but stopped himself in enough time to avoid Gilbert's ridicule. "I just have a lot on my mind right now."

"Really," Gilbert started, "what's on your mind?"

It would be an understatement to say that Matthew was surprised by Gilbert's genuine concern. Matthew's concerns were never taken into consideration by anyone, even Francis - arguably his closest friend - tended to ignore him even in the most serious of situations if the concern in question didn't relate to him. He could be near mental breakdown and he could barely keep anyone's attention for longer than ten minutes, and here he was, with a man he barely knew asking him to talk to him about his problems. He was so surprised that he could only stand there in stunned silence, looking down at Gilbert's half bandaged wound with his mouth gaping open.

"Well?" Gilbert asked, making a twining motion with his fingers to indicate that he wanted Matthew to go on.

"I- I- I guess I'm just really shaken up about everything that happened," Matthew began. "It's hard to wrap my mind around everything, I mean, where do you even start?"

Gilbert didn't cut him off or interrupt him abruptly, so Matthew continued on with his spiel.

"I was a law student, living a comfortable life and doing good in school. I was on my way to success, and I had my whole future planned out right to my death bed. Now, here I am, at the cusp of the apocalypse with no real accomplishments and no real reasons to continue living. I never planned for this." Matthew said this all calmly as he finished wrapping Gilbert's head, saying everything with a sense of finality because he expected Gilbert to leave as soon as his head wound was re-dressed. What Matthew didn't expect was for Gilbert to stay in place, looking up at him almost expectantly. Matthew cocked his head to the side.

"What?" Gilbert asked.

"I just – I guess I just thought that you were going to leave as soon as I finished bandaging you up."

"I wasn't going to, but if you want me to, I can leave," Gilbert stood up, getting ready to leave. However, he was stopped when Matthew's hand shot out and grasped his elbow, stopping him in place.

"No," Matthew started, swallowing hard as he tried to work up the courage to speak, "stay."

Gilbert turned around slowly, large smile plastered on his face, "all right." Gilbert turned back around, full body this time, and sat back down on his chair. He looked up eagerly, waiting for Matthew to start talking again.

Matthew felt completely lost for words. Even though he had so much on his mind – so much to say - he couldn't get anything to come out. He had never had anyone's undivided attention for so long, let alone a complete stranger's attention. Usually they would just roll their eyes and leave, looking for someone more interesting to talk to. Matthew couldn't say he blamed them, but part of him still wished they would grin and bear it, at least give him a little time to open up to them. Benefit of the doubt.

Being an introvert was hard.

"Well?" Gilbert asked, "are you going to talk to me, or not?"

Matthew wrung his hands in front of himself nervously; suddenly hyper aware of his body and the way Gilbert's eyes scanned him expectantly, waiting impatiently for him to start talking. He realized he wouldn't be able to shed his nervous tick, so he decided to sit down in behind the table opposite to Gilbert, hoping to cover some of his fidgeting from the albino man before him. However, even sitting down, he couldn't think of anything to say to Gilbert. "I- I can-"

"Ok, let me get you started," Gilbert said, sitting with his legs stretched out and his head angled onto the back of the chair, "why don't you talk to me about why you're having such a hard time talking to me?" Gilbert laughed, a booming thing that would have been annoying if the voice behind it hadn't been so beautifully unique. "Is it because I'm German? I'm told that we're somewhat intimidating to other people." Gilbert leaned his head forward, "or is it because I'm so damn white everywhere?"

At this, Matthew couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped his throat. He knew that Gilbert hadn't really meant it as a joke, but with his voice and expression combination, Matthew was helpless to the onslaught of laughter bubbling up in his chest. After a good fit that almost escalated into an out-of-breath type of laughter Matthew calmed himself down enough to answer Gilbert properly. "It's not any of those things, really."

Gilbert himself was chuckling, pleased with himself that he had made the shy man laugh, even though he hadn't really meant to, "well, what is it then?"

"Well, it's just that I'm not used to people willingly listening to me; you kind of caught me off guard."

"Why wouldn't anyone want to listen to you? Those people in the van were your friends, right?" Gilbert brushed a stray hair away from his visible eye, which lit up when he seemed to realize something, "oh, you don't know them, and that's why you can't really talk to them, right?"

Matthew shook his head, "it's not that." Matthew finally got enough confidence to start speaking again; laughing had lightened the mood in the room significantly. "I've known all of them for a very long time; I've actually known Alfred since I was little more than five years old, he's my step-brother."

"Then why can't you talk to him?"

Matthew stuttered for a moment, finding it difficult to come up with a reasonable explanation for Gilbert – one that wasn't confusing. "It's not that I can't talk to him, it's that he doesn't want to listen to me."

Gilbert leaned back on his chair, causing the front legs to lift off of the ground, "he sounds like an asshole."

Matthew shook his head frantically, "no, no, that's not what I'm trying to say."

"Well, that's what it sounds like to me," Gilbert said simply, shrugging his shoulders. "When it comes to family, especially siblings, you should listen to their concerns; you need to listen if you want to keep them in your life. How do you think my brother and I have stayed so close over the years? I listen to him, he listens to me." Gilbert laughed, almost uncomfortably, "if he hadn't listened to me, and hadn't followed me here in the first place, I probably would have never seen him again."

"He's your biological brother, though."

"Family doesn't end in blood," Gilbert said, "I've learned that over the years."

"I guess you're right," Matthew said with a sigh, "but I don't think he cares about me as much as I care about him, and if he does, he doesn't really do a good job of showing it to me."

Gilbert regarded Matthew with an almost pained expression, as if he were sympathizing with him, "everyone's stuck, or has been stuck, in one of those relationships." Gilbert went quiet as he looked off, spacing out as he stared at the cracked and boarded up windows surrounding the room.

"Are you?" Matthew asked, surprised at his own voice escaping. He had willingly engaged in, and invoked, a conversation with someone. Someone he didn't even know, at that.

"Am I what?" Gilbert asked, finally looking back at Matthew.

"Are you stuck in one of those relationships?"

Gilbert regarded Matthew quietly for a long while, not uncomfortably and not with a mean expression, he just looked at him. Whether it was a good thing or a bad thing was to question, but it didn't make Matthew feel nervous, and that was all that really mattered when it came down to it.

Gilbert didn't make Matthew uncomfortable, even when he was scrutinizing him.

"I am," Gilbert said easily, eyes finally moving away from where they were locked on Matthew's. "I've accepted my fate, however."

"Weren't you just lecturing me on not giving up?" Matthew found himself talking, openly arguing, despite his penchant for backing away from things when he felt they were getting too intense for him. He would have been surprised at himself; however, he didn't have the time for that any more. He was engaged in his talk with Gilbert - so enthralled by the strange albino man – that he was barely even aware of himself.

"I guess I kind of was," Gilbert chuckled, "but this is one of those special cases; I know I shouldn't pursue any longer."

"Why not?" Matthew asked. "If it's something you really care about, then shouldn't you pursue it?"

Gilbert finally looked back at Matthew, "why do you care?"

"Why do you care about my story?" Matthew retaliated, surprising both himself, and Gilbert.

Gilbert laughed, pointing his finger accusatorially at Matthew, "you're a lot more fierce than I thought you were, little American."

Matthew immediately discoloured, a cause for concern for Gilbert, "Canadian," Matthew whispered.

"What?"

"I'm Canadian, not American."

Gilbert laughed, another full body chuckle that brought a smile to Matthew's face again, "I'm sorry, I'll keep in mind that you're not a little American, but a little Canadian."

"That's better," Matthew said, straightening out his arms that he had crossed defiantly after being referred to as an American citizen. "But," Matthew started, "don't try to change the subject on me; I still haven't gotten an answer from you."

"You're persistent," Gilbert said.

"I'm a law student," Matthew smirked, "it's my job."

"Fine," Gilbert said, "I'll answer your question because you answered mine." Gilbert leaned the chair back forward, finally standing up from where he was sitting. In the process of moving from sitting to standing, he gave Matthew a good view of lithe muscles working under his black t-shirt. Though he wasn't as large in stature and tone as his younger brother, he clearly wasn't any weaker. Matthew metaphorically shook his head, telling himself that the apocalypse and the stress of everything around him was making him think the way he was. He had heard numerous times that during a dire situation people would start to get weird thoughts, that they would start becoming desperate, especially if they knew that they didn't have very long to live. As if to calm his increasing nerves and his confusion, Gilbert began speaking, "I came here to America for a girl."

"Did you find her, or…" Matthew felt horrible about the way he was thinking as soon as he heard the words leave Gilbert's mouth. He had come here for a girl, and she had probably ended up dying when the outbreak happened.

"I found her," Gilbert said simply, "in fact, she's with us."

Matthew knew right away who Gilbert was talking about as she was the only girl with the group. She was the girl that had gone into shock during the outbreak and had woken up after some help, compliments of the nurse. She was a beautiful woman, golden blonde hair and pearly white teeth, not to mention kind spirited and calm. He could understand why Gilbert was so attracted, and he also knew why Gilbert was giving up on his climb for her.

She was clearly in love with another man, Roderich, had been his name.

Gilbert huffed an annoyed breath of air through his nose and laughed humourlessly at his own words, head resting on his collar bone all the while. Clearly he knew that the woman would never return his feelings. Though Matthew felt bad for this, and understood Gilbert's feelings on some level, he couldn't help the small feeling of hope welling up at the back of his throat.

However, he quashed most of these feelings as soon as they started. He argued with the feelings that arose in him, telling himself that these feelings were starting to develop – not because he was falling in love with this stranger, but because this stranger was one of the only people who offered to listen to him, and the fact that he actually sat through their whole conversation without once sighing and leaving. If anything, it was just admiration that he was feeling for the man.

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Gilbert was really surprised by the little Canadian man's willingness to sit down and listen to him, and even more surprised by the man's willingness to open up about himself to him. He was even surprised with himself; it normally took years of friendship before he was willing to talk about his feelings with someone, and even then, he vied away from saying too much to anyone he didn't know well enough. And here he was, talking with a man he had known all of a few minutes, relaying to him his whole life story. He didn't feel uncomfortable about it, though, he felt good about it. He told Ludwig almost everything about himself, but one thing he couldn't tell him about was his love life. If it was anything relating to Gilbert having feelings for someone, Ludwig wanted nothing to do with it. Which was understandable, considering how prudish his little brother was.

"I don't know," Gilbert said, leaning back on the chair once more. "But for some reason, even though I've had feelings for her for so long, I feel like I can get over it easily enough."

"Why, though?"

"Under most normal circumstances I wouldn't, but because of Roderich, I'm not upset at all," Gilbert sighed. "I know that he'll protect her, and as long as I know she's safe and happy, I'm not upset."

"That's very noble of you, Gilbert," Matthew said, yet again making Gilbert feel uncomfortably flustered, yet at the same time, flattered.

"It's not noble," Gilbert said, "it's perfectly natural to want the people you care about to be safe."

Matthew didn't say anything, but his lopsided smile said everything he was thinking. It pissed Gilbert off, but at the same time, it made him feel that uncomfortable sense of self-satisfaction that he was trying so hard to ignore.

Gilbert was about to ask Matthew more about himself, but he was distracted from his thoughts when light began to filter through the planks in the board room. Morning was coming, and neither of the two men had gotten an adequate amount of sleep. And, as much as Gilbert wanted to keep talking with the gentle-voiced blonde man in front of him, he also wanted to get a little sleep before their mandatory meeting in the afternoon.

"We should both get some sleep," Matthew piped up, as if reading Gilbert's mind. "We have a meeting tomorrow, and I don't think it would be good for us to be running on less than three hours of sleep."

Gilbert nodded his head in agreement, "you're right, we'll need some sleep if we want to function properly." Gilbert laughed, "as boring as it's going to be, we should at least try to be coherent enough to understand what's going on."

"Right," Matthew said, a small smile stretching his lips as he got up from behind the table. "Good night then, Gilbert."

"Good night, Matthew."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's the PruCan you guys requested! I know it's not much and I know they're not really "loving" on each other like crazy, but I'm a big fan of 'slow-burn' relationships so you can't expect them to start banging right away. Heh.
> 
> Anyway, it's Easter weekend so I'm hoping that I'll be able to pump out another chapter by Monday night. I don't have any homework to do, and I don't have anything important that needs to be worked on, so we'll see! Next chapter is the very last chapter before the new arc starts, so it's not going to be that~ long. The next chapter is mostly going to be about all of them having a meeting and discussing living arrangements, and the remaining parts in the chapter will be for character development.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! Also, don't forget that I take most suggestions, so don't be afraid to hit me up in the comments or on my tumblr (link can be found on my profile)!
> 
> I love you guys – I really do – your comments and your love keep me working like a maniac! 


	16. Decisions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is set two weeks after the last chapter.

Tino woke up with an ache in his back and a pain in his leg that could only be described as 'screaming'. He knew that the nurse had told him that it wasn't a serious injury, however, the nurse had also told them that Gilbert's wound wasn't serious even though the man had dripped blood all the way back to the hotel. Even though the nurse had helped them so much Tino found that he didn't - or rather, couldn't - trust him very much. He felt like the man was only telling them everything was alright just to keep them from panicking.

Everything wasn't alright, that was made clear by their previous meeting.

Hardly any of them had any experience in things relating to hunting or gathering, and the ones that did were either incapacitated or too afraid to do anything to help. Gilbert and Ludwig were probably the only two of the group that could adequately defend themselves, and Gilbert himself couldn't even see out of one of his eyes, not to mention he couldn't stay in the sun for too long.

Tino sighed and sat up in bed, scrubbing a hand over his sleep crusty eyes. It was yet another beautiful day, it was just too bad that they couldn't spend it outside. Standing on the roof was pretty much their only reprieve, and everyone wanted to be on the roof at once. That eventually led to Tino just giving up. Tino just settled for sitting under the skylight, soaking in the rays that filtered through the dirty glass. Even though it wasn't the greatest thing, it was better than nothing.

These were the last of Tino's concerns, however. He could live perfectly fine the way he was, but resources were starting to become a big issue for the group. They all knew that the resources would eventually run out, but the entire group silently agreed on not bringing it up until it was absolutely necessary.

They knew it meant going out onto the street with the infected again, and no one wanted to do that.

The thought alone made chills work their way up Tino's back, causing him to bundle himself back up in the blankets and hide under their warmth. He wasn't ready, by any means, to face the infected a second time. He didn't think he would ever be ready to face them. After his past traumatic experiences, and after hearing Gilbert's words about them becoming stronger, sometimes he found himself not even being able to get up from where he lay in his bed.

"Are you all right, Tino," a familiar voice asked, causing him to peek out from under the heavy duvet covers.

It was Berwald, sitting on the corner of his bed with a concerned look on his face. In his arms, he held a sleeping Peter to his chest.

"I'm fine," Tino said, holding his arms out for the baby. He enjoyed taking care of Peter; it was one of the only things truly keeping him sane. "I'm just worried about the meeting today, that's all."

Berwald hummed under his breath as he handed over the small child, cradling the baby's neck so as not to put weight on his neck. Tino could tell just by looking at the man that he was just as concerned, he was just better at hiding it than Tino was.

"I know it's going to be about food," Tino said as he brushed a loose strand of gold hair behind the baby's ear. "I knew it was eventually going to come to this, but part of me hoped that some sort of miracle would happen before we had to act on it."

Berwald nodded his head; pushing his glasses up on his nose as he regarded Tino with concern filled blue eyes. He wasn't saying anything – he normally didn't – but part of Tino was grateful for his silence. Tino needed someone to talk to, uninterrupted so he could get all of his feelings out on the table, and Berwald's silence allowed for him to do so. Berwald was also sincere and trustworthy, so Tino knew that whatever he said in confidence would never leave Berwald's mouth.

The only time Berwald ever spoke was when he felt he needed to, and even then, sometimes he couldn't get anything to come out. Tino knew what this was; after having time to be alone with just Berwald, with no infected on their backs, he realized that the man had a speech impediment, albeit a small one. Even though Berwald never said anything about it, Tino understood.

"I just don't think I can face those things again," Tino said. "And I have this sinking feeling that I'm going to be sent on whatever mission they decide on. Any able-bodied person will be sent." Tino stood up, rocking the baby back and forth in his arms absently. "I mean, what happens if none of us make it when we go on the run? Who will be left behind to tend to Peter, or the others who are chosen to stay behind?"

Berwald finally piped up from where he was sitting, "I will request they leave you here."

Tino turned around, "you can't do that, Berwald, I'm an able-bodied man. I need to be there to help the group."

Berwald was quiet for a moment; he clearly wanted to speak, however, so Tino waited patiently as he tried to get his voice working again. He'd come to learn that he couldn't rush Berwald, and that no matter how much the man wanted to speak, he couldn't rush himself. "Gilbert and Ludwig both said the same thing at the last meeting," Berwald finally said. "They said that one person wouldn't make a difference."

Tino sighed, "but what if one person was the difference they needed?" Tino asked. "What if something bad happens if I don't go, and it ends up costing everyone their lives?"

"You can't do that," Berwald said.

Tino ground his teeth, finally becoming irritated with both himself and Berwald, "can't do what, exactly?"

Berwald stood up and approached Tino, holding the back of his hand to Tino's forehead, "you're running a fever."

Tino scoffed, "please don't try to tell me that my thinking isn't clear because I have a fever." Tino slapped Berwald's hovering hand away, "I'm perfectly lucid."

"I know that," Berwald said. "I'm just worried that you're upsetting yourself too much."

Tino swallowed hard; he was worrying too much. How could he not worry about everything though? The whole world had gone to hell, they were running out of resources, and everyone's lives were in danger every time the night fell and the infected closed in around the hotel.

Tino knew that eventually getting and bringing back resources wouldn't be enough. Eventually they would have to pack up and leave the hotel, eventually the infected would run them out and they would be left vulnerable, travelling the roads with danger following them around at every turn.

Nothing was permanent in their new world.

"Come on," Berwald said, gripping Tino's arm. "Let's sit on the roof before we have to go down for the meeting."

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"That's interesting," Kiku said, rolling the heavy plastic object around in his hand. "I had no idea you were so clever with electronics."

Heracles laughed, taking the plastic radio out of Kiku's hand again, "it's what I went to school for." Heracles put the plastic radio into his back pocket, "speaking of school, Ludwig said something about you preparing for your finals before…"

"Mixology," Kiku said, slightly flustered. "It's nowhere near a degree in circuits and electronics, but I guess it's alright."

Heracles sat down in front of Kiku, "if it's something you like, then it really doesn't matter what you chose to do. I would still be impressed even if you were taking a course in taxidermy."

"I guess," Kiku said, still refusing to look up from where his eyes were focused on his own feet. "I do like it."

"That's good then," Heracles said, lying back on the solid concrete with a look on his face that spoke of pure, unadulterated comfort. Kiku couldn't understand the man's ability to find comfort in the most uncomfortable places, so Kiku pegged it as narcolepsy to avoid thinking about it for too long.

He didn't know if Heracles had fallen asleep already, but he began speaking to him despite this, if only to speak his worries aloud. "I'm worried about the meeting today," Heracles didn't answer Kiku, but he continued speaking. "I know what it's going to be about; I overheard Gilbert and Ludwig talking about our increasing lack of food."

"It knew it was going to come to that eventually," Kiku said, sitting up from where he was sprawled on the ground so he could talk to Kiku face to face. He seemed to have something important on his mind. "Do you trust them?"

"Do I trust who?" Kiku asked, even though he understood what Heracles was getting at as soon as he had asked the question.

"Do you trust Gilbert and Ludwig?" Heracles asked, "they're pretty much calling the shots right now, whether they wanted it that way or not."

"Of course I trust them," Kiku said, with the slightest bit of hesitation. However, even though it was only slight, Heracles caught it immediately.

"There's something bothering you, what is it?"

"It's just that," Kiku started, scratching the back of his head. "I trust Ludwig with every part of me, he saved Feliciano and I and ensured our safety by bringing us here…"

"What about Gilbert?"

Kiku twiddled his thumbs and bit his bottom lip as he tried to think of a way to word what he was thinking that would not be rude. "I feel like Ludwig is impartial to his brother, and that if something were to happen, Gilbert would come first."

"So you don't trust Gilbert?"

"It's not that I don't trust him, really," Kiku said. "I don't trust what Ludwig will do if something happened to Gilbert." Kiku stretched his legs, "you saw what Ludwig was like when we brought Gilbert back from the crash, he got very upset."

"You're right," Heracles said. "But I can't really judge him from that, I mean, I don't have a brother, so I can't assume to know how he felt when he saw Gilbert in the condition he was. Let's also not forget that Ludwig had just gotten back to Gilbert. He probably felt very helpless seeing his brother in that kind of condition."

"Yes," Kiku said, but the quirk in his brow said he still had some concern.

"I'm sitting right here, and I'm not going anywhere," Heracles said, "so talk to me."

Kiku sighed contentedly, it felt good to share his concerns with someone for once, "Gilbert hit his head very hard."

"Your point being?"

"I know Antonio said not to worry about it, but I am worrying," Kiku whispered. "I knew just from the look on Antonio's face, and just from the way he spoke so quietly with Matthew, that there's still a chance something could go wrong with Gilbert."

"It's a little too late for his brain to start swelling, Kiku. No matter how hard he hit his he-"

"No, no, not that," he continued whispering, "I'm worried about the kind of brain damage it did."

"You think it might have affected Gilbert's thinking?"

"Not really…"

"He's still the same loud, obnoxious, and bossy man that he was when he first entered the hotel with Roderich and Elizaveta. Trust me, the only difference I noticed in him was his left eye, and his problem with walking into thi-" Heracles stopped as he finally came to a realization.

"Even though he's functioning the same, and even though one of his eyes is back to good condition, he still hasn't regained vision in his left eye."

"That could be hindering," Heracles said, pinching his chin between thumb and forefinger.

"Considering he is most likely going to be one of the people leading us, then yes, it will be very hindering. He doesn't have the advantage we do because he can't see around himself. He's a danger to himself, and to others."

"You're right," Heracles said, "and even out there, with his vision completely intact, Gilbert himself had a hard time holding them back. Even though he's stronger than most of us – arguably as strong as Ludwig – he took a big hit when he lost the eyesight in his left eye. He won't be the same fighter that he was."

"Yes," Kiku said, nodding his head in agreement with Heracles. "His loss was also our loss."

Heracles sighed, "the world just wants to see us burn now, no?"

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"Don't you think I know that?" Arthur spat, turning away from Alfred.

"Then you know that we can't stay here," Alfred said. He grabbed Arthur by the elbow and turned him back around to face him. "You know that this hotel isn't big enough to hold all of us, and you know that when the food runs low, we're going to be on the bottom of the list!"

"When did we come to that conclusion?" Arthur asked, ripping his arm away from Alfred's grasp with a scoff.

"We came to this conclusion - we were subject to it - as soon as we fucking collided with their van! We can't live like this, we can't. I know what this next meeting is going to be about; we all know what this next meeting is going to be about. Those god damn German brothers are going to throw us right under the bus!"

"No they won't, don't be ridiculous," Arthur said, however he was starting to understand Alfred's concerns. They were new to the hotel, and they had no attachment with the first group. They meant far less to the group than anyone else. So far the only thing they did for the group was slam into them with their car and injure their own set of survivors.

"Don't forget that we have Peter to think about," Alfred said. "According to all of us, Peter should be number one priority, but according to them, their group is number one priority. Do you see what I'm getting at, Arthur?"

"I see it," Arthur said, "I'm just having a hard time believing that they would do that to us." Arthur sighed, "how could anyone be quite that cruel?"

"Those German brothers, that's who."

"Alfred, you know, just because they're German doesn't mean they're going to be the harsh dictator types, right? Just because their accents are heavy, and they're muscled beyo-"

"I know that, Arthur," Alfred shouted. "What do you take me for, some kind of idiot?"

Arthur opened his mouth, but Alfred cut him off.

"Don't answer that," he said. "What I want you to tell me is what you know about them."

"What I know about them?" Arthur asked incredulously, "why?"

"I'm starting to take you for an idiot," Alfred said, sighing loudly. "Don't you think it's important that we know stuff about them, especially those two fucking krauts who've been giving us the run around since we got here?"

"Of course it is, idiot, but I think we know all that we need to! That meeting we had the day after the crash, yeah, that was all the information we needed to know about who everyone is - or was. What we know about them is that they're very close, they grew up in a quaint little German village, and they both have military training. If anything, we learned that they're exactly what we need for leaders."

"Are you kid-"

"I'm not kidding you, Alfred," Arthur shouted, shoving the man's shoulder. "We know that they're loving brothers, and that they're fiercely protective and very strong. They're perfect for this situation."

Alfred deflated at this – he deflated because he knew that it was true. They saw the true power of the infected, and they knew that alone they weren't strong. With the German brothers, along with the nurse, they had the perfect set up. He just had a hard time wrapping his mind around the idea of being ruled, rather than ruling himself.

"We need these people," Arthur said, voice lowering slowly. "The world isn't safe any more and we need all the help we can get. You can choose to not trust them, and that's fine, just keep your eyes peeled if it bothers you that much. I just don't see where you're getting the danger here. For Christ sake's there's a man who was in seminary before all this shit went down, do you really think he would take food away from a baby if worse came to worse?"

Alfred ran his left hand through his hair and sighed, "I know. I'm just worried, OK, all of this shit…"

"I know," Arthur said, resting a hand on Alfred's shoulder, "but this is how it is now, whether we like it or not."

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Ludwig looked up when he heard the sound of light footfalls approaching from behind him. It was Feliciano, coming down the hall with a concerned look constipating his normally soft features.

"Feliciano," Ludwig said with a nod, turning back to where he stood looking up at the skylight.

"Ludwig," Feliciano started, "when is the meeting going to start?"

"Soon," Ludwig said, "I'm just waiting on brother at this point."

Feliciano silently took a place at his side, joining him as he stared up at the light billowing down on them. Feliciano whispered, "you look worried."

"Of course I'm worried," Ludwig said, pushing himself off of the bannister to look at Feliciano. "Aren't you worried?"

"Yes," Feliciano said with a laugh, "but when am I not worried about something? Everything scares me; I'm a baby."

Ludwig smiled, and even though it was a lopsided one, it was a smile nonetheless, "you weren't acting like a baby when we had to walk back to the hotel with everyone. You handled it better than most of us, actually. Better than me."

Feliciano smiled, "you're very kind, Ludiwig." Feliciano bowed his head down, "but there's something I needed to ask y-"

"Brother," a loud, booming voice called from down the hall, "are you ready to go now?"

Ludwig turned around to face his brother before he could answer Feliciano's question, having completely forgotten the Italian's concern as soon as he heard his brother's voice ringing down the hall.

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"I don't think that's a good idea," Antonio said. "All of us going would be ridiculous, we need to have people here to hold down the fort."

"We're not kids, Antonio."

"I know that," Antonio said, eyebrows furrowing, "what I'm trying to say is that if something bad happens, and everyone dies, what's going to happen here?"

"They'll just have to survive," Gilbert said.

"There's a baby here," Antonio said, clenching his fists by his side, annoyed at the German's careless attitude. "A baby can't fend for itself, especially during these times."

"We'll leave Elizaveta here with the child," Ludiwig said, as if that solved everything. "If something bad were to happen, she could take care of him."

"Don't decide for me," Elizaveta piped up, "I'm going with you guys."

"You're a woma-"

Elizaveta stood up and slammed her fist down on the table, "don't you dare try to tell me that I'm weak because I'm a woman, I can fight with the best of you." Elizaveta brought her hand back and crossed her arms in front of her chest, "In fact, I'm sure I could fight better than most of you. So don't you talk down to me because next time I'm lay you flat, German."

Ludwig seemed surprised, as did everyone else in the room; so much so that no one else started arguing.

The fight had escalated much quicker than any of them had expected. As soon as the meeting had commenced, Ludwig and Gilbert started everything off by telling everyone what their plan was, and that their resources were running low. They talked about a mall - a super mall - that they had seen while entering the city. It wasn't too far out from where they were, and it would have everything they needed. However, many people wanted different things. Though they all agreed that they needed to stock up on their meager resources, they all wanted to do it in different ways than what Gilbert and Ludwig were suggesting.

Berwald had started off by suggesting Tino stay back with Peter, which started a big fight about how Tino was perfectly capable of fending for his own on a mission. Things had eventually de-escalated when Tino agreed that he was capable of going on the mission, and that they needed as many people as possible to carry goods and resources back. Then the question had arisen about who exactly would stay behind with Peter, which started another argument.

That led to Antonio getting mad about taking everyone, and then Ludwig had suggested Elizaveta stay behind. All of which led to their current situation.

"So we leave Tino behind," Ludwig said with a shrug, "that seems to be our only choice right now. His wounded leg gives him a reason to stay, after all. He couldn't run very fast - or far - on an injured leg."

This started a second round of bickering; however, it didn't last long.

"You're still not catching what we mean," Alfred shouted. "What we're trying to tell you is that everyone shouldn't be thrown under the bus, we need to leave at least half of the group behind!"

"That's not right either!" Heracles piped up from where he was – for the most part – completely quiet.

"Listen, you g-"

A loud, abnormal snap caused everyone in the room to quiet down. It wasn't the familiar sound of the wood creaking from the cold, and it wasn't the sound of someone walking down the stairs. It was the sound of a board snapping in two.

"What was that?" Lovino asked, finally raising his head from where he had it pressed into the table. He had long since resigned himself to his fate as soon as the meeting had started. Even though he and Antonio had just gotten free from the hospital's clutches, they would be thrown into a similar situation, and they would have no say in it.

Gilbert held his index finger up, telling Lovino to quiet down.

Another snap sounded, followed by the familiar sound of the chain link fence being moved.

Glass shattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, I've been writing alllll easter weekend, and I'm exhausted! I finished an article for journalism, I finished half of my application for university, (ha-ha I'm so late with my applications) I finished a huge assignment for Canadian Geography, and I managed to get two chapters out! Wow.
> 
> So, this is the last chapter before we get into the next arc, which I think you guys will really enjoy. I wanted to pump this chapter out quickly so I could focus on making the next chapter extra juicy. Anyway, I have a long weekend coming up so I'll have lots of time to settle down this weekend and work at a relaxed – not frantic – pace.
> 
> Thanks for readings, guys. Hugs and kisses!


	17. Fight

Even with the looming threat of an attack, even with the sound of glass breaking and shattering on the cold ground, the group stood still – mouths gaping – as they were unable to accept what was about to happen. They had just settled down in a comfortable, seemingly safe facility. They were surrounded by chain-link fence, they were boxed in with heavy plaster walls, and they had food and water to keep them alive. Considering the conditions of their new world, they were living in the lap of luxury.

Maybe that was what caused them to become so unprepared – mentally and physically – for what was about to happen to them. They had been sheltered and safe from the outside world for so long that they didn't know how to properly handle themselves when things finally got serious. The only ones who had a general knowledge of how to handle themselves in this kind of situation were Antonio and Lovino, and that didn't ensure any kind of safety for the group.

It was the plucky blonde with the rimless spectacles that would rise to the occasion, becoming fearless in the face of imminent danger. Though his courage was sometimes put in the wrong place, and his anger directed at the wrong people, he was truly all heart. At first he tried to say something, opening his mouth so he could yell at everyone to leave, but that was no good. Yelling would only put them all in danger with the infected roaming so close to them.

"Guys," Alfred started, shaking everyone in the room from their shocked stupor, "we need to get out of here. Now."

Antonio stood up quickly, legs of his chair screeching against the ground as he moved himself away from the table. He grabbed Lovino by the arm and dragged him toward the swinging double doors.

Their best bet was to take to the roof; they all knew this.

Following quickly behind Lovino and Antonio, the rest of the group began filing out of the room as quietly as possible, trying to remain calm and collected as they listened to the sound of the glass creaking and shattering all around the building. It was only when they opened the large double doors that their calm façade began to fade to dust. It started with Antonio and Lovino.

Lovino swung the doors open, prepared to run for the stairs until he realized what was waiting for all of them in the lobby of the hotel.

When they were busy yelling and arguing with each other they must not have heard the others approaching the hotel and breaking through the glass. They must not have heard the sound of the boards being ripped from the walls or the sound of infected as they approached with their mouths hanging open obscenely in preparation for a hearty meal of human flesh.

Lovino backed up into the group that was trying to force their way through the open doors, unable to open his mouth or cry out in fear like he so wanted to. Instead he stumbled over his feet – clumsy in fear – and tried to wrestle them back without a word. To those who couldn't see what was going on in front of Lovino, it didn't go over very well, they were scared and frantic. The group behind the doors were stronger and eventually knocked Lovino down, causing him to fall, sprawling forward toward the infected infiltrating their new base. It was only then that they realized how back their situation truly was.

They all started backing in, but considering there was nowhere for them to go, they were lost and became insanely confused during the whole ordeal. Some of them, much like Lovino, completely gave up and caved in on themselves. Thinking that this was the end of the line for them. Lovino himself had stayed on his knees – so very close to the infected – and began to pray frantically. His brother, Feliciano, was busy trying to wrench him from the ground, tears spilling down his face in fear.

A loud shot rang through the air, causing the entire room to go silent. Even the infected seemed almost shocked by the sound of the gunshot ringing through the air. And to all of their surprise, it wasn't either of the German brothers who had pulled the trigger of the gun that had caused one of the infected to go down on their knees. It was Matthew, Matthew who had pulled the trigger.

In their panic they had all forgotten about the guns that the other group had brought it. They had completely forgotten that the duffel bags filled with guns and ammo were stashed underneath the cupboards, right out in the open. This was yet another blow to their confidence. They couldn't even act properly under pressure, how were they all to protect themselves from the infected if they couldn't even keep a clear head in a dangerous situation? Shouldn't their first thought have been to grab a gun?

Instead they ran around like chickens with their heads cut off.

Another shot rang through the air, and another one of the infected fell to the ground in a fleshy heap, followed by another, then another. Except it wasn't just Matthew shooting now, Gilbert was close behind. Matthew himself still couldn't aim properly, but he had gotten one, that was a start. They all needed to start somewhere.

"Go," Gilbert yelled, waving his arms frantically, "run!"

The others ran, tripping over their feet toward the stairs in a flurry of arms and legs, and to make matters worse, Peter began crying – loud, shrill sobs that rang through the air like shattered glass.

Ludwig had now joined Gilbert and Matthew, and along with a gun in his hand he had three duffel bags slung over his shoulders.

"Matthew," Gilbert started, grabbing his shoulder and bringing his mouth close enough to Matthew's ear so he could hear over the sound of the hotel falling apart at the seams. "Go with them, my brother and I have this."

"Are you sure?" Matthew asked, lowering the gun cautiously. "There's a lot of them, and only two of you," Matthew's eyes scanned Gilbert frantically, hoping that the man wasn't lying to him just to get him to go away.

"I promise," Gilbert said, sensing Matthew's worries, "We'll just clear out as many as possible, then we'll block off the stairs and join you up in the attic." Gilbert looked down at the blonde's worried gaze, "I promise, I promise, I promise."

Matthew huffed impatiently and reluctantly handed the gun to Gilbert, "you better keep your promise, Gilbert."

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They all sat, huddled in the hidden room that led to the roof. They had the hatch bolted closed, and they all listened closely, waiting for the sound of either the infected approaching, or the sound of the German's boots clapping against the cold ground. Not a sound in the room could be heard sole for their heavy, distressed, breaths.

The only thing they could do was wait, wait and hope that they would hear the German brothers coming for them. If not, that was pretty much it for them, they were lost; just another casualty. They would be one of the infected that they had feared so much.

A whole hour filled with gunshots ringing through the air had passed.

Elizaveta stood up, fists clenched by her sides, "I'm going down to find them."

Roderich reached up immediately, hand wrapped tight around her wrist to stop her from going., "Liza, no, there's nothing you can do."

"I can try!" Elizaveta cried, wrenching her hand out of Roderich's grasp. "That's the only thing we can do now."

"You're unarmed," Roderich reminded her, twining his hands together in his lap. "They have all the weapons, the only thing we have is a few knives and a couple of pens and some paper, we couldn't even make a dent. I mean, God, we didn't even expect the air-headed nurse and the foul-mouthed priest to make it out of there alive. We didn't even want to help them in the first place, we just did it so we could use his medical knowledge. Now look where we are? We can't risk losing another person any more."

"You bastard," Lovino said, glaring in Roderich's direction, finally responding to their situation with the help of Roderich's insults. Before Roderich had opened his mouth, Lovino was sitting down with his head cradled in his hands, different thoughts about how they would all die running through his head. Each one increasingly more gruesome than the next.

He was handling the situation well before, but Roderich's comment had made him angry and upset, which in turn only made his heart-rate increase to a blinding speed.

"That kind of response just solidified why, exactly, you are completely useless," Roderich sneered. "What use is a priest who curses his own God and bends over for a nurse?"

"Don't start that," Antonio said, shaking his head. He had been ignoring Roderich's comments, but he found he couldn't any more. He wouldn't stand by and let him slander Lovino for no reason. "Look where we are," Antonio said, raising his arms to indicate the cramped space that sealed their fates, "is this really the type of place we should be starting this? Is this really the time?"

"You're just as useless," Roderich spat, staring Antonio down. "We only wanted you here to help the injured, if you hadn't been a nurse we probably wouldn't have even helped the both of you. We actually contemplated leaving you there because of Lovino. And what's the use of you now, anyway? You're supposed to be helping everyone, and yet you're always just hiding away with Lovino in his room all the time. He's one of the only ones that wasn't harmed in the accident, yet you act like he's in critical condition. What kind of opinions am I supposed to formulate about you two from that? You left the little pipsqueak over there, Matthew or whatever his name is, to take care of Gilbert all on his own. The man has a severe concussion, he can't even see out of one eye any more and you barely took care of him!" Roderich slammed a hand onto the ground in front of himself, causing the hatch to shake. "I don't even like the man and I was bothered by how much you were neglecting him."

Feliciano began crying, hopeless in the face of an argument.

It was Arthur that finally piped in, grabbing Roderich by the arm in a tight grip, nails digging into flesh, "you're going to shut up, you git, and you're going to do it right now. You know that we wouldn't be here right now if it weren't for his help!"

Things were getting increasingly louder up in the attic space, and tensions were beginning to grow.

"Let go of me," Roderich said, all the while trying to pry Arthur's fingers away from his arm. When he finally got Arthur to let go of him, he threw him back, causing Alfred to land heavily on his right arm.

Alfred shot up at this, he himself taking Arthur's place by grabbing onto Roderich's arm. Except this time, instead of trying to shake some sense into him, he grabbed and twisted, a loud creaking snap could be heard. Roderich cried out, and at this Alfred finally let go. "You're not going to hurt any of us," Alfred said, pressing the heel of his boot onto Roderich's thigh, "we're all that's left in the world, and you're trying to hurt us? Are you a fucking monster? I'm not going to let you ruin our one fucking chance for salvation." Alfred pressed harder, then lifted his leg, preparing to stomp down one more time.

"Wait," Lovino cried, grabbing Alfred's pant leg before he could bring it down on the other man. "Please stop, it's alright," Lovino said, tugging again at Alfred's pant leg for emphasis.

"He's right," Elizaveta said, so quiet that everyone had forgotten she was still there. It was a surprise that she hadn't piped in when Alfred attacked Roderich. "We're all just stressed out, and we need to relax. And Roderich, please, you need to stop attacking everyone. You know all that stuff that you said about saving them wasn't true, don't tell such horrible lies to people." Elizaveta glared, but her gaze began softening, "you're always so quick to judge people, and I know it's hard in this kind of situation, but you can't be like that any more. We need to stick together, not push each other away."

Roderich didn't answer; of course, he was too busy glaring at Alfred. The man had broken his arm, after all, and that was the last thing Roderich needed. A broken arm in their situation could render someone almost completely useless and helpless.

Alfred knew that Roderich knew this, and Roderich also knew that Alfred was trying to make a point by breaking his arm. Roderich had been so caught up in calling everyone else useless, and making them feel useless, that Alfred took advantage of the situation and made Roderich feel how he was making others feel. Except, Roderich really was defenceless now, and he knew that after what he said no one would bother helping him if worse came to worse and they were left alone to fend for themselves. If the German brothers happened to not make it back to them, Roderich would be forced to rely on the others for protection.

Roderich cringed as he looked down at his broken arm. It wasn't anything horrible; it was a clean break made by brute force, so he knew healing wouldn't be an issue. However, the issue was just how long it would take to heal itself. They didn't have time to take a break to heal in their world any more. Roderich patted at the break and hissed, completely ignoring Elizaveta as she continued on criticizing him. He knew he deserved it and he knew exactly what she was saying to him.

"Let me see that," a cool and calm voice spoke from in front of him; it was the nurse. "It'll swell, and it will heal the wrong way if we don't take care of it right now."

Roderich stared at the tan skinned man incredulously. He had just come from criticizing him and belittling him and here he was, willing to take care of him. Roderich turned his head the other way and held up his broken arm with a bashful look on his face. He had just come from ripping the man down, and now he was willing to help him out. He was about to open his mouth to say sorry to the man, but was stopped when a loud bang sounded on the hatch to the attic.

Saved by the bell.

Every thought that had been previously going through his head was gone.

They all tensed; none of them had heard the sound of the German brother's boots clapping against the ground. However, they tried to remain hopeful; they had been fighting too loudly before to have heard them coming anyway. Another sound rang through the air, then another; it took a while for them to notice that the sound of fists clapping on the door was not an erratic banging that the infected would have made, but the sound of someone knocking with rhythm.

It was the German brothers.

"Could you guys open the damn door?" Gilbert's familiar, nasally voice finally began filtering through the cracks in the hidden door. "And stop fucking fighting, we could hear you from the stairs!"

Elizaveta sighed, "thank God." She dropped to her knees and opened the hatch for the two brothers, then took a seat next to Antonio to watch him take care of Roderich's wounded arm.

Gilbert was the first to walk up the stairs, shocking everyone silent when he walked into the light. His pale white skin, his hair, and his clothes were drenched in blood. However, it wasn't the blood that made their eyes widen in shock; they had all seen gallons of spilled blood since the starting of the outbreak. It was the stark difference between the blood and his pale white skin that had caused their eyes to widen, it looked so unnatural, almost alien. Gilbert, however, didn't even notice their stares. He turned around to make sure his brother was behind them, then dropped to his knees with a concerned look on his face beside Elizaveta.

"What happened to his arm, did he fall?" Gilbert asked, watching as Antonio dressed the wound.

No one said anything.

"Did he?" Gilbert asked again, looking around at everyone's guilty faces.

"Is this why you were all yelling up here?" Ludwig asked, voice booming through the attic, "you were breaking Roderich's arm?" Ludwig turned to where Feliciano still had his head bowed in his lap, crying silently as Lovino tried to soothe him. "And you made Feliciano cry? What exactly were you doing up here during all that yelling?"

"It didn't happen like that," Alfred said, "he was starting to fight with everyone, cutting them all down, and he threw Arthur when he tried to stop him. He was telling Antonio and Lovino that no one really wanted to save them…"

Feliciano cried harder.

Ludwig scowled and looked at Roderich, the same expression on his face as was on Gilbert's. Even though Gilbert and Ludwig didn't have any similar features – so to speak – their expressions were all the same. It seemed that they were both not fond of Roderich, and that they both knew immediately, without a doubt, that Roderich had started everything.

"We can't leave you alone for two minutes," Gilbert said, "you could have put everyone in da-"

Gilbert groaned, and held a hand to his wounded eye immediately, with all the blood on him they weren't capable of seeing that his wound had begun bleeding again, they all hoped that it was nothing worse. However, when Gilbert folded in on himself and fresh blood poured from underneath his head-wrap, this drew a panicked gasp out of Antonio, and a open-mouthed shout from Feliciano.

Antonio shuffled over to Gilbert's side, leaving Roderich's arm half-dressed and hanging limp beside his side – clearly Gilbert was in need of more help than what Roderich was. He could see that now.

Gilbert was trying to hide it from them.

"Brother," Ludwig started, moving in to stand by his brothers side. However, Antonio wasn't having any of that; he held out his arm to stop Ludwig from getting too close.

"Stop," Antonio said, still not moving his eyes away from Gilbert's hunched form. Everyone's eyes were on Gilbert, watching as he hissed and groaned. "What are you feeling, Gilbert?" Antonio asked, still not risking putting his hands on the man.

"Was he bit?" Matthew asked.

"No, it's his head," Antonio said, eyebrows creased as he watched Gilbert closely. He wanted to know what was causing all the pain; Antonio had never seen a head injury like Gilbert's before.

"I wasn't bit," Gilbert said, clenching his teeth as he spoke. Just that exertion alone caused more blood to slip down Gilbert's face, pooling in the creases of his mouth and dropping onto the floor in a steady, staccato rhythm. "It keeps getting worse," Gilbert said, sucking in a breath of air in an attempt to hold the pain at bay.

"What keeps getting worse?" Antonio asked, finally putting a hand down on Gilbert's shoulder. There was nothing he could do for his pain as their supply of pain killers were running frighteningly low. The only thing Antonio could do at this point was offer comfort and tell Gilbert to rest.

And rest, in their situation, wasn't really an option. The only thing Antonio could do was hope that things would start getting better, however it didn't look like that was going to happen for him any time soon.

Gilbert didn't answer again; he didn't need to. They all knew what he was talking about just by the blood marring the entire left side of his face.

Antonio felt helpless. All eyes were on him, expectantly waiting for him to do something about Gilbert's condition. But he couldn't do anything, there wasn't anything he could do without a doctor and a proper hospital setting.

He was completely, and utterly, useless. He couldn't move from where he was, hand still clasped on Gilbert's shoulder. The only thing he could do was look at the man, watching as he writhed in pain, cringing as the previously white gauze around his head began to dye itself dark red. He just sat there, mouth gaping like a fish out of water.

What Antonio didn't expect was for Matthew to shove him over, taking his place on the floor and immediately unwrapping the gauze around Gilbert's head. Everyone watched carefully, wondering what Matthew could do that the nurse couldn't. Antonio just sat back up from where he had landed, sprawling, beside Lovino and Feliciano.

When Matthew got the gauze off of Gilbert's face – even though it had caused great protest – Matthew threw the soiled fabric to his right and began frantically ripping through the bag of medical supplies.

Everyone gasped at the condition of Gilbert's wound and eye. Even though it wasn't infected, and though they knew just from looking that it was caused by the fabric rubbing against the wound, it was still a very gruesome sight. The white of his eye was red and milky looking, and blood dripped from it like a leaky faucet. If anyone else but them had seen him coming, they would have immediately assumed that he was one of the infected. His pale – almost post-death looking – skin would have been warning enough.

Matthew pulled painkillers out of the kit and shoved them into Gilbert's mouth without a second of hesitation, not even giving him any warning before he forced the pills down his throat and tilted his head back by his chin so he wouldn't be able to spit it out. At first everyone protested at Matthew doing this, saying that they needed to get out of the hotel fast and that Gilbert would be a heavy burden to carry. Matthew didn't listen, however, as he was too keen on making sure Gilbert wouldn't feel any more of the pain. After getting the pain-killers out of the way Matthew began pouring saline – and even hydrogen peroxide – on the wound, causing Gilbert to let out another shout of protest, fingers wringing in the fabric of Matthew's pants. However, despite the cries of protest, it got the job done and slowed down some of the bleeding; the eye remained bleeding though, as Matthew couldn't properly clean it out without proper time. He then wiped as much blood away as possible with the small band of cloth that remained, then re-wrapped his head in gauze. At this point, Gilbert was already getting woozy from the painkillers going through his system.

"Thank you," Ludwig said sincerely, all the while picking Gilbert up off of the floor and lugging him over his free shoulder as if he weighed nothing. Considering Gilbert didn't protest like he normally would, it said that the pain killers – a very high dosage of them – were ripping through Gilbert's system successfully. Ludwig looked back at the group with a stern look on his face, "all of you need a gun, so take one and follow close behind me. We need to move fast, and we need to stick very close to each other. Do you understand me?"

Everyone nodded their heads; their mission was a dangerous one, they couldn't afford to ignore Ludwig's advice.

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There was such an amazing pile of the infected lying on the floors when they got down the stairs that everyone stopped long enough to gawk at them. Two men wiped out a good quarter of the town's population – it seemed – and had done it without a scratch. They truly were a force to reckon with, even stronger than the soldiers in the hospital. However, this pile of the infected was what worried them so greatly.

How much of them had been killed by Gilbert alone? Would they be able to protect themselves with just Ludwig's help alone?

And the most important question of them all.

Why had the infected suddenly attacked them?

They couldn't ponder the questions too long though, as they barely had any time to take a breather. They needed to run, and they needed to run fast. Night was quickly approaching, hot on their heels, and they needed to find a safe place to seek refuge before they thought of anything else. Their main priority at the moment was staying alive, and even that was becoming an increasingly more difficult challenge as the minutes ticked by.

"Out through the broken glass," Ludwig called from farther away, "there are no more of the infected as far as I can see, they came in from another broken link in the fence. If we move fast, we can avoid a lot of conflict."

Nobody nodded at this point, they only followed, blindly. It would have looked idiotic to another person, but it was their only hope. Even though some of them – namely Roderich – cringed at the idea of having to follow blindly, it was their only hope. On the floor of the hotel they saw the might of German brothers put together, and they knew that they were safe in their hands. Their heroic act of putting themselves behind everyone else showed them just how dedicated – and powerful – the two brothers truly were. They had to lay their trust in them.

The entire group filed out in one messy line, walking a few steps behind Ludwig, waiting for him to tell them that it was alright to finally advance.

They all listened close, only the sounds of glass crunching under their feet, as Ludwig looked around the corner. He looked around carefully, looking slightly disturbed by something, but despite this nodded his head for them to follow him.

Ludwig stopped them when they approached the corner of the building, holding his index finger up to his mouth, indicating that they needed to be as quiet as possible so they wouldn't attract any kind of unwanted attention with loud voices and roaring noises. "There are a few of them wandering around," Ludwig said in a harsh whisper, only just loud enough for them to hear over the sound of the whistling wind. "They aren't close to the fence, but they're close enough that they will see us when we start moving, I need you guys to be quiet and quick more than ever. I'm going to go ahead of you, but I'm not going to shoot unless it's totally necessary. I want to draw as little attention as possible, alright?"

Everyone nodded, quick, jerky, sharp nods of the head. This indicated to Ludwig that they were nervous, but he couldn't be disappointed in them, he himself was nervous beyond anything he had ever felt before. Even though he considered himself a person that worked consistently under stress, he was still having a hard time controlling the nervous twitch in his hands. Even his brows would shoot up, almost straight to his hairline, when a shiver worked its way up his spine.

Everything was too surreal; it was like living in a nightmare. Except it was worse than any kind of nightmare Ludwig was capable of thinking of, or dreaming up.

Ludwig jogged ahead of the group and forced himself through the small break in the chain link fence, and sure enough, the infected that had been wandering around saw him immediately, or rather, smelled him immediately. Ludwig put Gilbert down on the ground and his head lolled forward onto his chest, he was still completely out of it. So, without thinking about it, Ludwig reached into Gilbert's pocket and drew out the knife he had been keeping on him since the attack on the hotel had started. After he pulled the knife out of Gilbert's pocket, he stood there hovering, looking down at his older brother.

Ludwig was aware of the group watching him, so he buckled down, gathered his courage, and approached the infected that had been wandering close to the hotel. He knew that they were stronger, and he knew that he would have an almost impossible time taking down three, but he needed to do it. The group wasn't strong enough yet, gunshots would attract more of the infected (if their smell hadn't already), and Gilbert would probably be completely lost to the world for the rest of the day. The group was depending on him.

Ludwig brought the knife to chest level and approached the hobbling infected with as much confidence as he could muster. His height, his brawn, and his intelligence alone gave him a great advantage over the infected. He lunged at the first without an inch of hesitation, plunging the knife into the infected's eye socket and pulling it out with a loud gurgling noise. He did the same with the second, however, when he tried to pull the knife free of its head, the knife got stuck in between bone and cartilage.

"Fuck," Ludwig cursed, falling to the ground beside the infected with his hand still wrapped around the hilt of his brother's blade. He yanked and pulled, using all his force, but human bone proved to be stronger than he was.

"Ludwig, look out," Feliciano cried from behind the chain-link fence.

Ludwig, focusing so intently on getting his brother's knife back, hadn't even noticed the other infected closing in on him from behind. It had been so far away when he'd attacked the second one that he had thought it wasn't any kind of threat to him. It was so fast, in fact, that it was on Ludwig before he could even stand up.

The infected person – wearing a red shirt and a pair of black suit pants, Ludwig had noted – landed on top of him and caused him to fall onto the ground on his back. However, with the force of it knocking him over, the knife pulled out of the other infected creatures' eye with a loud pop. Unlucky for Ludwig though, his hand slipped on the hilt and the knife fell away from him, completely out of his reach, before he could grasp it again. The only thing Ludwig could do was hold the infected away and hope that he could gain enough leeway to reach for the knife that he had lost.

However, something Ludwig completely didn't expect was for someone else – someone who would never harm a soul – to do the job for him.

As Ludwig was wrestling with the infected, who was snapping at his face like a hungry animal, he heard the familiar wet sound of flesh being rended and bones being pulverized. Ludwig, however, could only place where the sound was coming from when a large gob of blood landed on his face.

The infected that had been attacking him was dead; it had completely stopped moving.

Ludwig sat there, silent, with the whole world following suite.

It was only when the infected creature fell to the left of him did he finally realize who had done it. He had expected Gilbert – having maybe suddenly woken up – or maybe Antonio or Alfred, who had both had some experience in fighting off the infected.

What he didn't expect was Feliciano, standing above him shaking, with Gilbert's knife grasped tight in his hands. His eyes were wide, his breathing was erratic, and his eyes were pink and swollen with fresh tears.

Ludwig was about to stand up so he could comfort Feliciano, or tell him something to keep his mind off of what he had done, but Lovino had that covered before he could even properly formulate all of his thoughts.

Lovino ran through the break in the fence, cutting his arms in the process, and ran to his brothers' side without another thought. It was strange; the man was so scared after everything he had been though; not even willing to look through the glass in the hotel in fear of seeing another infected. And here Lovino was, completely disregarding all of his fears to make sure that his brother was alright.

Ludwig knew what it was like to be irrevocably attached to his brother, and he also knew what it was like to be willing to give your life up and face all of your fears for them. So instead of cutting them off, he left them talk to each other. If anything, Feliciano needed Lovino's help and calm words much more than he needed Ludwig's advice.

Ludwig was happy that Feliciano had killed the infected, even though it had scared him so much. Eventually Feliciano would need to protect himself, and Ludwig wanted to be sure that he could do it.

Ludwig stood up and brushed off his clothes as he regarded the group. They all look scared, hopeless, and small from behind the chain-link fence. They were not ready for this kind of world; they couldn't even handle themselves yet. Even Ludwig himself wasn't ready for the new, harsh world that they had been thrown forcefully into. They would all need training, but not just run-of-the mill physical training; they also needed serious mental training. All of them did.

Ludwig approached the car lot that the group had discussed for a while and called the group over. Most of the infected were migrating toward the hotel because of the ruckus that had happened inside.

Alfred hopped into each car - it took him a while as he was not familiar with every kind of car, and he had to make it a point to avoid the more high-tech looking ones to avoid setting the alarm off – and hot-wired them.

It took only three cars to fit all of the survivors.

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They had driven through masses of the infected, rolled over mountains of bodies and limbs, but nothing was as bad as they had seen inside the hospital. Lovino and Antonio both sat, completely complacent, as most of the others groups panicked at the aspect of rolling over other bodies and limbs. Lovino, however, didn't even have the time to notice any of it, too busy checking on Feliciano who had fallen asleep after over-exerting himself. Antonio himself was too busy fussing over Gilbert, making sure that a fever didn't eat away at his system until it was irreparable.

The rest of the groups – resting in the other two cars – were in the same sort of state. Though they were gasping and reacting more strongly to the infected, and the smell of the infected - unlike Lovino and Antonio who had gotten used to it - they were too busy fussing over their own. Worrying cuts and scrapes, making sure there were no bites, and napping – just for a while – before they finally reached the mall.

They had no home any more, no safe haven.

Now they were stuck living like the infected: living meal per meal, scrounging for food, holding water up like it was the holy grail, and running and hiding for their lives constantly. There was no more time to sit still and relax, there was no more time to live in the lap of luxury as if the apocalypse wasn't really happening. They were now homeless, and they would now have to live on their own. They would need to fight for themselves for the first time in their sheltered lives. It was a long time coming.

Ludwig stopped suddenly, causing all the other cars to come to a quick halt. They had finally reached it.

The mall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the (sort of) late chapter, my friends, I've just been really busy. Let's just say getting ready for university is a real pain in the ass. I've been running around for reference letters, looking for some new scholarships, and trying to find a way to get funding to study abroad in Israel. Phew, I'm pooped. And along with all that I'm stuck in a rut with a load of school work (mainly Canadian Geo shit). But, despite all this, I still managed a story for you guys because of the long weekend.
> 
> I'm really busy next weekend, guys, so I'm not too sure if I'll be able to work out another chapter. I want the next chapter to really be something else, so I want some time to brainstorm some new things. My creative faucet is running really low with all this stress.
> 
> As always, thank you guys for reading. : )


	18. United We Stand

"Follow me out," Ludwig said, "and stick close to me."

Feliciano nodded his head, having finally woken up after Lovino gave him a few rough shakes. Lovino himself didn't respond to Ludwig, but the burning glare he was giving him told Ludwig that Lovino wasn't missing a word he was saying.

"I'll carry Gilbert," Antonio said, jostling the man lightly in an attempt to wake him up. "You need to lead the group."

"Are you sure?" Ludwig asked.

"I'm sure," Antonio answered with a lopsided smile, head tilted toward Lovino. "I carried Lovi all over the place without too many problems, so I doubt Gilbert will be much of one."

Ludwig stepped out of the car quickly, throwing a duffel bag over his shoulder and holding a semi-automatic rifle close to his chest. Feliciano followed out second, skipping over an arm lying adjacent on the ground like it was nothing more than a stone. Lovino was the third to step out; however, he didn't leave without turning back, frown present on his face. "Call me Lovi one more fucking time, Spaniard, I dare you."

Antonio chuckled quietly as he watched Lovino's retreating form; Lovino's shoulders were rucked up to his jaw in anger as he walked away from the van, leaving Antonio chuckling quietly. Lovino never had the desired effect on Antonio, it seemed.

"So irritable," Antonio said with a sigh and a small smile as he lifted Gilbert's arm over his shoulder, "and you're heavy."

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"We stick as close as possible," Ludwig said, eyebrows deeply creased. "This mall is huge, and we could get lost anywhere in there, we can't risk that."

"What happens if someone gets separated from the group?" Feliciano asked, "we wouldn't just leave them, would we?"

"I do-"

"Of course we would," Roderich said with a scoff, "if someone gets separated from the group, than it was probably their fault. And, chances are, they would probably already be dead by the time we got to them. It would be pointless to turn back and risk our own lives."

Feliciano frowned, "that's awful, Roderich."

Roderich rolled his eyes.

"That really is awful," Ludwig said, all the while glaring at Roderich. "We don't leave anyone behind. Wouldn't you want to be looked for, Roderich?"

Roderich smiled, a cold, bitter thing, "I'm not stupid enough to get separated from the group."

Ludwig was slowly coming to realize why his brother hated everything about Roderich. The man was a true blue uptight bastard. Ludwig was disturbed by Roderich's words, but he chose not to continue arguing with the difficult man. If anything, he would just end up stressing himself out more, he wouldn't be able to get through Roderich's thick head even if he wanted to. He needed to focus on the group, not on his anger with Roderich. He gritted his teeth, "there's always a map at the entrance of a big mall, we'll break the glass, take the map out, and follow the course to the places that hold what we need the most."

"Wouldn't it be easier to split up and have everyone look for a different thing?" Francis asked, left eyebrow quirked.

"No," Ludwig said, "we don't split up under any circumstance, that's dangerous."

The group nodded their heads, but Ludwig was still concerned about how much he said was getting through to them. They had just gone through a traumatic experience, surely they couldn't be thinking clearly. He was worried that they would get the wrong idea, try to become heroes, and split up thinking they were doing something right.

"But there are some convenient things about splitting up," Matthew said, surprising everyone yet again by speaking up. The man who had a knack for fading into the background was starting to shine even brighter than the best of them. "We move faster in smaller groups, we draw less attention to ourselves, and we spend as little time in the mall as possible."

Ludwig didn't bark at him or tell him he was wrong when he piped in, he didn't because Matthew had a point.

"You and Gilbert both said that one person wouldn't make a difference in fighting the infected, and that if a large mob pinned us all down, we would all die. If only one group gets taken out – god forbid – there will still be others left."

"The little Canadian is right," groaned a voice, shocking Antonio and almost causing him to fall over.

"Brother," Ludwig said, nodding toward his older brother, "I'm glad you're up, I need your opinion on this."

Gilbert looked up from where his head was bowed, but he didn't take his arm off of Antonio's shoulder as he still needed the support. "A big group would just attract too much unwanted attention, and all of us walking together would make too much noise, Matthew's right about this one."

"But, I don't think they respond to sound," Antonio said.

"We don't know that for sure," Ludwig said. "We know from watching your experience that they respond to scent, but they only weren't paying attention to you because you didn't smell like a human; and we can't even be sure about that…"

"What do you mean?" Lovino asked, "didn't you see, we got out of there and they didn't even notice us, isn't that proof enough?"

"Well, Lovi, it's just that," Antonio scratched the back of his head. "We can't be sure about how they're… Evolving, I guess you could say." Antonio lifted his hand toward Ludwig in an open gesture, "at least that's what I think you were getting at."

Ludwig nodded.

"You see," Antonio said, "I already talked to Gilbert and Ludwig about this, and we agree that this is most likely a biological mutation. These things are brain dead, per se; they have no pulse, but they still breathe, bleed, and from what we've been seeing, they still sleep as well. They're still human, in a way."

"You mean, like," Arthur eyes widened, "you think this is biological warfare?"

"We think so," Ludwig said with a shrug, "it wouldn't be a surprise with all the tensions between countries lately."

"It didn't seem that bad…" Alfred said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "I mean, yeah, we're not really on good terms with Asia, but who the hell isn't?"

"America should have gotten their noses out of there…" Matthew said quietly, rolling his eyes at his patriotic step-brother. No one heard him this time.

"It doesn't really matter who, or what, it was," Ludwig said. "The only thing that matters right now is living, then we can worry about getting to the bottom of all this."

"Yes," Gilbert said, "so do we all agree that smaller groups would be better than larger groups?"

They all nodded, however Lovino still looked unsure.

"But who goes with who?" Kiku asked, eyeing the brothers tentatively.

"Well," Gilbert started, "it would be best that those with more knowledge, and general strength, lead each individual group…"

"So who leads who, do we draw straws or…"

"No," Feliciano cried, quickly followed by him covering his mouth with his hands, surprised at the strength of his own voice. "I mean, no, I don't want to be split up from Lovi…"

Gilbert sighed, then staggered over to Feliciano to grasp his face in his hands, "how could anyone say no to this cute little face?"

Feliciano laughed, spirits brightening.

"Brother," Ludwig said, eyebrows creased deeply, "that's not really appropriate right now." However, Ludwig was grateful for Gilbert temporarily lifting Feliciano's damaged spirits.

"Yeah, it's really-" Lovino said, ripping Gilbert's hands away from his brother's face, "-not appropriate."

Gilbert laughed, ruffling Lovino's hair, "don't be upset, you're pretty cute too, Lovino."

"You fucker," Lovino spat, all the while reaching out for Gilbert's quickly retreating back.

Ludwig sighed at his brother's antics, but otherwise ignored him and continued addressing the group. "I guess it would work better if we were familiar with the people we're grouped with, so let's start with Feliciano."

Feliciano stiffened, not liking being put on the spot, but happy that he had a say in whom he would be following. "I want to be with Lovino, Kiku, Antonio and Luddy…"

"Luddy," Gilbert wheezed under his breath, poking his younger brother in the ribs.

Ludwig glared at him but ignored him. "Is everyone all right with that?"

Kiku shuffled his feet, "well, I would like for Heracles to be grouped with us as well."

"Are you alright with that?" Ludwig asked, addressing Heracles who seemed to be too busy with his radios to notice what was currently going on around him.

"I'm fine with that," Heracles said, apparently having heard the whole conversation despite how focused he looked on his radios.

"So that group is settled, it will be: I, Lovino, Antonio, Feliciano, Kiku and Heracles." Ludwig gripped his chin between thumb and forefinger, "that's a pretty big group, but I think it's alright." Ludwig sighed and looked at his older brother who was demanding to be given the next choice. "I'm not letting you choose."

"Hey, what the fuck, why not?" Gilbert asked incredulously, managing to look disappointed and angry at the same time.

"Because, we need to go based on strengths, not based on who likes who…" Ludwig said with a dangerous stare.

Gilbert bit back what he was about to say, latching onto his bottom lip with his teeth to keep the words from spilling out. His brother was right, but that didn't mean he liked hearing it from his younger brother. He was supposed to be the older, wiser one. That didn't seem to be the case any more.

Ludwig regarded the group carefully, sizing them all up until he seemed satisfied with the decisions he had made. "Matthew, Francis, and you will be in a group together, is that alright? You were friendly enough with them back in the hotel."

Gilbert looked back at the man who had dressed his wounds and talked to him all night, and felt better. He was alright with the choice, in fact, he was more than alright with the group he had been put into. He didn't know Francis all that well, but according to Matthew he was the most bearable of his friends. "Yes, I'm fine with that."

Ludwig nodded then went back to scanning the remaining parts of the group carefully. "So we have Elizaveta, Roderich, Tino, Berwald, Arthur, Alfred, and the child left..."

"Berwald is a powerhouse," Gilbert said, "that I can clearly see." Gilbert twined a piece of his own white-blonde hair around his index finger as he tried to help his brother decide on who should go with who. "Alfred is also quick on his feet, and he's strong as well…"

"So Berwald and Alfred will be leading two other groups, is that alright with the both of you?"

Berwald nodded his head silently and Alfred gave Ludwig an enthusiastic thumbs up.

"Alfred, Arthur, Elizaveta and Roderich," Gilbert said with a shrug, "that seems to be an alright combo."

"I'm not working with that," Arthur said, pointing at Roderich who stood with his one good arm crossed defiantly in front of his chest. "That creature will end up getting us all killed with his mouth."

Roderich scoffed, "and that barbarian, Alfred, will probably use us all as bait. Mind your mouth you uppity Englishman."

"I'm uppity?" Arthur started, however was cut short when, surprisingly, Gilbert started shouting. The man who usually stood as comic relief compared to his harsh younger brother.

"Enough of that shit," Gilbert shouted, "you put up, and you shut up!" Gilbert pointed at Roderich, directly in the face, "you know better than to start problems, right?"

Roderich rolled his eyes, "I'm not an idiot, Gilbert."

"You could cost lives, Roderich, I'm being serious," Gilbert gave him a snide grin, "would you really risk putting Liza in danger?"

"Of course not," Roderich replied without hesitation.

"Good, then don't pick fights with the others, because if you fuck things up I will personally hand you over to one of those fucking infected things, and that's a promise, not a threat."

Roderich didn't respond, he only returned Gilbert's heated glare with a sneer.

Everyone got silent, surprised by Gilbert's violent words. However, they were even more surprised by the violence and venom each word was laced with. They spoke of true and absolute hatred.

"Is everyone alright with the grouping now?" Gilbert asked, staring down the rest of the group.

"Fine," Alfred said, "but we'll hold you to those words if he fucks up."

"I won't disappoint," Gilbert said with a small, cocky grin.

"So the rest would be Tino, Berwald and Peter," Ludwig said. He held his hand up as Arthur tried to speak. "I know what your question is going to be, but no, I know that Peter is your brother but from what I've seen Berwald is the only one that can adequately calm him down. Having a baby in this place is very unsafe, so if he started crying and no one could calm him down, a lot of bad things could happen."

Arthur closed his mouth and shrunk back, nodding his head at what Ludwig had said. He was right, Berwald could calm the child down better and quicker, and Arthur really didn't want something bad to happen to him on his account. He still felt like Roderich might do something stupid, and attract the wrong kind of attention when they got into the mall. He didn't want Peter to be a subject to the violence that could possibly follow.

"OK," Arthur said with a quick nod, "I understand."

Ludwig nodded his head, then regarded Tino and Berwald with a careful stare, "are you two alright with this, it's quite a heavy burden, I know."

"I'm OK with it," Tino said as he hugged Peter close to him. "As a smaller group, if something bad happens, it will be easier to get away from danger." Tino looked up and smiled, "plus, I would protect Peter with my life."

"As would I," Berwald said, voice surprising everyone. He didn't often speak, and when he did, everyone looked. This was a cause for discomfort to begin with, but Berwald was starting to get used to it, as was the group.

"Good," Ludwig said with a nod, before looking over at Heracles who seemed to be finishing up his work on the radios. "Are you ready, Heracles?"

"Ready as I'll ever be, I guess."

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The survivors walked into the mall carefully, looking around themselves and sticking close as they made their way through the broken front windows of the mega mall. They stepped over broken glass, cringing as it tinkled and snapped beneath their heavy boots.

And, lo and behold, as soon as they stepped through the first set of shattered revolving doors, they found the map to the mall.

It was even bigger than it looked from the outside, apparently.

Six floors.

"For fuck sakes," Lovino groaned as he scanned the map. Not only were there six different floors, the floors were massive and covered a large area. "We need to find another god damn mall, I'm done with this multiple floors shit. It spells trouble."

"We can't," Ludwig said. "We can't keep running around hoping to find something better, because we won't. This is perfect for us; we can find everything we need and more in here. We're not going to keep running around in circles; we'll end up having to stop one way or another. Not to mention we'll eventually run out of gas."

Gilbert began sorting through the duffel bag slung over Ludwig's shoulder, and with a pleased 'aha' he pulled a semi-automatic rifle out of the bag, holding it barrel first.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Alfred asked, grabbing Gilbert's shoulder in a tight grip. He still didn't trust the second German brother, he seemed more likely to fly off the handle than the other.

Gilbert, however, didn't even notice him doing so; he just shrugged his shoulder absently like he had an annoying bee flying around him. He brought the gun up to forehead level, then without a second of hesitation drove the butt of the gun into the glass casing over the map of the mall.

It was so loud that most of the group covered their ears with the palms of their hands.

"You're a fucking mental case," Lovino said to Gilbert, who was too busy pulling the map out of the broken glass to even pay the comment any notice.

"That wasn't necessary," Ludwig said with a sigh, "there's a bundle of them hung up on the wall, Gilbert; you know that."

"I know," Gilbert said with a smile and a shrug, "dramatic effect."

Ludwig sighed at his brother for the hundredth time.

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"Lovino, Antonio, Kiku, Heracles, Feliciano and I will take the sixth floor. There's a dairy up there, and a weapons depot."

"Matthew, Francis, and Gilbert," the third floor, it's pretty much scaled with fast food joints and food stores. Grab as much as you three can carry, and try to stick to the non-perishable items.

"Tino, Berwald and Peter, you will be taking the second floor, there's a gun depot there, but the only thing we really need from there is the ammo."

"Elizaveta, Roderich, Alfred, and Arthur, you four will be collecting as much water as you can find, and clothing. Size doesn't matter, just get as much as you can carry and we'll make do with that. You will all be on the fourth floor."

The entire group nodded their heads collectively.

"Does everyone have their maps?"

They nodded.

"Weapons?"

They nodded again.

"Good," Gilbert said, opening his own map in front of he and Ludwig's face. They whispered to each other for a few moments before Gilbert folded the map back up and put it into his back pocket. "We'll all try to meet here, at the front entrance, when we've all gotten what we needed, capiche?"

Everyone seemed more or less in agreement, except for Feliciano, who was looking at Gilbert quizzically.

"Is there something wrong, Feli?"

"When do we meet here? None of us have watches, and it's hard to judge the time until it starts getting light or dark outside."

"We can't really set a time, Feliciano," Ludwig said, "it would be impossible to judge how long each of us will take. Anything could happen, and anything could hold us back."

"So how are we going to do this?" Feliciano asked.

"We have to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, and hope that we could all be back in under two days. If anyone takes longer than that… Well…"

"You haven't even thought it all out yet, have you?" Lovino asked, "you stupid German bastards."

"We'll have to leave whoever doesn't make it back in time behind." Ludwig finished.

Lovino got quiet at this, however his mouth still hung slightly agape like he had something else to say.

"We'll leave a car behind in the hopes that they will come back or make it out somehow, and we will leave directions on a note inside the car. That's the most we can do. I know I said we wouldn't leave anyone behind, but we really need to think about the safety of the group. Going back wouldn't be safe by any means."

"We can't just-" Lovino started, voice raising. However, before he could finish the thought, his voice started lowering to nothing but a whisper. He knew just as much as everyone else that Ludwig had the best idea. They couldn't wait around forever, because they would only be putting themselves in danger and making themselves easy targets. "You're right," Lovino bit out, hating that he had to admit so much to the German he had a sworn hatred for.

"Does everyone understand?" Ludwig asked one final time.

Everyone nodded.

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"Be as quiet as possible," Ludwig reminded the group as they made their way up the sixth set of halted escalators. The entire mall was impossibly quiet; it was like time itself had stopped around the world.

And in a way, it had.

"Do you really think one of us is going to break down and start dancing and singing right now, retard?" Lovino asked, regarding the burly German with a heated glare.

Antonio chuckled.

"And you shut up too, asshole," Lovino spat.

"Relax, Lovi," Feliciano said, patting his older brother's back soothingly. Lovino's shoulders visibly slumped and deflated, and his hardened expression smoothed out slowly. It seemed like Feliciano was the only one capable of calming the fiery tempered Italian down. They were lucky for Feliciano's presence.

They came to a halt at the top of the escalator, waiting impatiently for Ludwig to pull out his map to check off where they needed to go.

"Shouldn't you have done that before we got to the top floor?" Lovino asked.

"It doesn't hurt to check again," Ludwig said, "would you like for me to lead you all in the wrong direction?" He asked this question sarcastically, and without missing a beat.

"Oh, fuck you," Lovino said, eyes indignant as he looked at the German's hulking back. He didn't like having his own brand of sarcasm thrown back in his face, but he couldn't react in the way he wanted to either. He wouldn't jeopardize the group, he knew better than to do that.

Ludwig unfolded the map in front of himself, and everyone crowded around to catch a glimpse of where they would have to go to get the weapons depot and the dairy mart.

Heracles was the first to comment on the ground they needed to cover, "that's really inconvenient," he said.

"Why is that?" Ludwig asked, "it looks like a pretty simple route."

"Look to your left."

They all turned their heads slowly to the left, making it look almost as if they were being controlled by a hive mind. What their eyes met made hopelessness and fear rise up from their bellies and into their throats.

Pitch darkness.

"I don't know why – or how – but it looks like the generators aren't functioning on this floor. The only light we're getting right now is from the skylight, and the windows."

"Do you think it's like this for everyone else?" Feliciano asked him.

"It has to be, it wouldn't be like this for just one floor," Heracles looked around, hoping to find something that indicated it was just a burnt fuse.

"Is there any way we can fix it?" Kiku asked, looking up from his hands and into Heracles' milky brown eyes.

"If there was an electrical circuit room, then yes; I believe I could fix it pretty easily." Heracles said. It doesn't look like a burnt fuse, so that's good for our case.

"There's one right there," Feliciano said, pointing at a small cube on the map. He was right, and it was conveniently located on the fifth floor, directly under them. The only problem was that it would require them to split up even more. Heracles, however, was willing to take that chance. He knew that, come night time, things would become hellish for everyone if they didn't have light to guide them around the mall. They would all die.

"Kiku," Heracles said, looking up from the map, "will you come with me?"

Kiku nodded his head immediately, almost as if he had been sensing the question lingering on Heracles' mind. "Of course, you can't go alone."

Ludwig cocked his head to the right and asked, "are you sure you're alright doing this? We could all go if you wanted, we have the time."

"I have to go," Heracles said. "I'm the only one who knows how to work circuits, and I'm the only one here who can fix them. Plus, without light, we'll never make it out of here alive. It would be impossible. And we don't have ample time, you know that, Ludwig."

"If you're sure," Ludwig said, "then go."

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After the sound of Heracles' and Kiku's boots hitting the steps receded, the remaining part of the group took off toward the gun depot without another thought, hoping to get there before night fell and darkness along with it. If they were lucky Kiku and Heracles would have the generator fixed by that time, but if they didn't, they would need to find a safe place to hide out for the rest of the night when the infected started coming out.

Ludwig hoped the rest of the groups chose to do the same thing when they realized that the lights weren't working.

"Where are we going first?" Antonio asked Ludwig, keeping an even pace with him as he scanned the map again.

"The dairy would be our best bet first, but we need to move as fast as we possibly can. We need to make it to the gun depot before night falls."

"Shouldn't we just go to the weapons depot first, collect some guns, and then go to the dairy?" Lovino asked with a cocked brow.

"No," Ludwig said. "We need to go to the dairy first and collect everything we need while there's still light outside to guide us. Then, we can go to the weapons depot and hide for the night. Almost all weapon depots have bullet proof glass, so that should keep them out for the night.

"I've been in the same damn position before, bullet proof glass and all," Lovino said, "that barely even stopped them for a minute."

Ludwig turned around and sighed, regarding the Italian with an almost pitying expression, "Lovino, they were pounding away at that glass for a long time, it only makes sense that it broke after all that force and time being put into it. They're mindless, and things eventually break."

"Exactly," Lovino said, "they all attacked it at the same time, and it broke. Bulletproof glass, built to withstand an explosion, broke."

"It's safer than nothing," Ludwig said nonchalantly, realizing that the only way to get Lovino off of his back was to either ignore him, or disregard him completely. He would curse, and complain, but eventually he would shut up.

Learn to deal with the mean Italian brother, check.

Lovino cussed, like Ludwig knew he was going to, but otherwise kept his mouth shut. He also knew, just as much as everyone else, that yelling and going off about nothing wasn't going to get him anywhere and that it would probably just put them all in danger in the end.

"Are we close to it yet?" Feliciano asked quietly as they advanced into the darkness.

"Just around the next corner," Ludwig said, looking down to realize that Feliciano's hands were wrapped into his shirt. He was going to wrestle Feliciano's fingers out of the shirt, however, he was stopped before he could even completely process the situation.

"Stop," Antonio said, grabbing his shoulder and yanking him back into the rest of the group.

"What is it?" Feliciano asked, voice beginning to quiver.

"There are a few of them around this corner," Antonio said, "I can hear them."

"I don't hear anything," Lovino said.

"Listen closely," Antonio said to them.

All of them got deathly quiet, eyebrows knitting together as they focused intensely, trying to make out a sound in the otherwise completely silent mall. Lovino was about to open his mouth to tell him he couldn't hear anything when he finally heard it, as did the rest of them. It was a light chewing noise, like the sound of someone chewing meat with their mouth closed. If one didn't think about what the creature on the other side of the wall was likely chewing, it didn't sound as gruesome and morbid as it truly was.

Lovino, Antonio and Feliciano all looked at Ludwig questioningly, as if he had the answer to all of their questions.

"If we should be looking at anyone, it's you, Antonio. You have more experience in this area than I do, you proved that to everyone when you were in the hospital." Ludwig said.

Antonio chuckled, "I didn't work well because I'm intelligent, I worked well because the adrenaline was forcing me to." Antonio shrugged his shoulders and bit his bottom lip, "I know just about as much as you do about those things, plus, you're stronger than me. That's a given."

"I don't think strength has anything to do with it," Ludwig said, "but I'll go ahead of the three of you, keep an eye on my back and if it jumps me, don't hesitate to go after it. Only use your gun in the worst case scenario, alright?"

"Alright," Lovino huffed, "just fucking go before I run in there myself; we're running out of fucking light."

Ludwig nodded, internally smiling at how the other Italian brother's crankiness remained – became even stronger – even in the most dangerous and nerve-wracking situations. It was almost like his personal security blanket.

Ludwig backed himself up against the wall with a knife held close to his chest.

He took two deep breaths before throwing himself out in front of the infected.

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"Something doesn't feel right here," Matthew said quietly, resisting the urge to stand close to Gilbert.

"I know," Gilbert said, eyes reduced to slits as he regarded the open lobby area they were approaching. It was too spacious, too empty, and too quiet. That always spelled trouble; at least in their past experiences it did.

The infected were smart enough to be quiet when they needed and only started churning out the odd noises when they were in direct sight of their targets.

Matthew could hear Francis shuffling around from behind him, and he turned around only to realize that Francis was unsheathing the knife he had strategically hidden in his pants leg. He felt that there was something wrong too.

Matthew swallowed hard around the lump forming in his throat.

The lump in question grew even larger when he realized Gilbert was also readying himself for an attack. At this Matthew took the initiative and drew a large blade out of a makeshift holster Gilbert had made for him before they left for the third floor.

"It's awfully dark up here," Francis said absently, "I have a funny feeling that the generators aren't working in here any more."

Gilbert turned around only momentarily, "If that's the case, Heracles is probably already working on it, I don't think he would endanger everyone like this. If they couldn't fix it, someone is bound to come and get us at some point." Gilbert turned back to the open lobby, remaining eye and ears sharp, listening in for the faintest noise and looking for the faintest glimpse of something moving.

They approached the lobby, and entered, only to find nothing waiting for them. It was still barren, it was still lifeless, and it was still too quiet. Even though they couldn't see anything, and everything looked clear for the rest of the way to the food court, something still felt off about the place. Neither of them could quite put their fingers on it, but it was something, and that something didn't mean anything good for the three of them.

Matthew could only explain it as the feeling of death approaching. He could feel its long fingers wrapping tight around his very soul, and its cloak shrouding him in complete darkness.

He shivered despite the growing warmth of the area.

"Let's keep moving," Gilbert said with a concerned look back at Matthew, "lolly-gagging will only put us in danger."

Francis nodded his head and slowly sheathed his knife, deeming things safe enough to hold back on the weapons for the time being.

For that, Matthew let out a sigh of relief; however his little momentary relief was cut short when Gilbert let out a sharp hiss, grabbing the wounded side of his head.

Matthew cursed internally; he knew the head pain would pick the worst possible time to re-surface. They seemed to be occurring more and more frequently, and they seemed to cause more pain for Gilbert each time.

Matthew hoped it meant that it was healing itself, but he had his doubts; he wasn't a doctor after all.

He walked up behind Gilbert and put a steadying hand on his shoulder, trying to keep him relaxed. He could see by the intensely focused expression on his face that Gilbert was trying his hardest to not seem like he was in any kind of pain. Matthew, however, knew the truth, everyone did now. Gilbert was in a tremendous amount of pain, so much so that he was almost rendered completely incapable of moving or thinking straight. "Are you alright, Gilbert?" Matthew asked him, even though he knew what his answer would be. Gilbert's face, and the noises he was making, were indicative enough of how much pain the man was truly in.

Gilbert tried to let out a quick 'fine' but it didn't make it out before he doubled over on the ground with his hands held to his temples.

"Oh god," Francis said, looking around the room cautiously, "could he have picked a worse time to do this, we're right out in the open!"

"I know," Matthew said sharply, "just give him a minute, we can't make him move too much or we could do more damage."

"We're easy targets, Matthew, we need to go – now!"

"Francis," Matthew started, ready to go off on a tangent. Before he continued, he finally turned around from where he was watching Gilbert's pain wracked form to face his long-time friend.

Whatever Matthew was about to say next completely died on his lips at what he saw looming behind Francis.

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Berwald and Tino rounded each corner cautiously with their knives held close to their chests. Tino himself was handling Peter, keeping him close to his body so that if something happened, the child wouldn't be easily pried away from him.

They were arguably the luckiest of the groups, they had been given the easiest route and they all knew that. No one would argue, however, because Peter was with them. Tino and Berwald needed the easier route. There was no argument to be had about that.

Peter cooed and Tino held a hand over the child's mouth to stifle the noises that were beginning to erupt from him. The baby wanted to play, completely unaware of the severity of the situation they were in. No matter how many times Tino shushed him, and told him that he needed to be quiet, Peter continued on gurgling and trying to get Berwald and Tino to pay attention to him.

He was getting their attention, alright, they just hopes that Peter wasn't claiming anyone else's attention as well.

Just as Berwald and Tino were about to take another corner, the sound of glass shattering and crunching under heavy footfalls stopped them just in the nick of time. Berwald threw his arm out and held Tino close to the wall behind them as they listened in, praying that Peter would be quiet enough to keep the attention off of them. Tino kept his hand firmly positioned over Peter's mouth.

Tino and Berwald were both expecting the familiar sound of moaning, and the sound of flesh rending and teeth gnashing. What they both weren't expecting was voices, voices that belonged to completely healthy human beings.

"Did you find any?" The voice asked, loud and exuberant. It made Tino want to cringe; being so loud under such circumstances was just asking for death.

"Shh," the next voice came, silencing the loud man, "and yes, there was a surprising amount of ammo in there."

"Hah, that's great. These Americans really love their guns, don't they?"

"I guess so," the quieter man said, "I've never seen a country that carried guns in malls like they were some sort of… Accessory." The man sounded disgusted, so much so that Tino could almost picture the look on his face as he talked to the other man.

The voice sounded familiar to Tino, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He figured he was just getting excited because they found other people that were still very much alive. That was only to be expected of him.

"It's lucky for us," the louder man said, "if guns weren't an accessory here – as you just called it – we probably wouldn't be alive right now."

Tino tried to push himself off of the wall, becoming over-eager at the thought of talking to other living human beings. If they could increase their numbers, things would start getting better for them. Eventually they could establish a community, or even-

Berwald kept his arm positioned firmly in front of Tino's chest, keeping him for leaving the wall.

"Berwald," Tino whispered harshly, "there's other people over there, we need to talk to them, they could help us. Help the group."

"No," Berwald said in a stern whisper, "we can't be sure that they're safe."

"Berwald, this is no time to be worrying about ourselves," Tino started, but was distracted from his thoughts when Berwald looked down at Peter, who was still wriggling around in his arms restlessly, wanting to play.

"You're right," Berwald said, "this is no time to be worrying about ourselves."

Tino's eyebrows knit together in frustration, but he kept his mouth shut. He agreed with Berwald, they couldn't risk Peter. Even if the people collecting weapons sounded friendly enough, they couldn't be sure.

"We'll wait for them to leave," Berwald whispered.

Tino nodded his head even though Berwald wasn't looking in his direction.

As if on cue, the man with the loud voice began speaking again, "we should probably get out of here before those things come back."

The other man responded with a soft 'yes', followed by the sound of rough fabric being rustled and moved around. It sounded like they were carrying around duffel bags like their own group and hoarding weapons for themselves. It was the only way to survive, really. Without weapons, there was no chance of survival outside or inside.

"Let's just take as much as we c-"

Tino, having completely forgotten about Peter's restless state, made the mistake of letting his hand drop away from the child's mouth. In the middle of the loud man's sentence, Peter let out a booming giggle. It was so loud that Tino could feel it in his bones; there was no way the other two men hadn't heard it.

Everything got silent for what felt like hours, the air and silence stagnating like a cold pool of mud. Their hearts raced and their stomachs churned with adrenaline and fear.

Footsteps started approaching.

Shit.

Berwald moved away from the wall before Tino could even open his mouth, throwing himself out into direct view.

The footsteps stopped.

Tino held close to the wall, he understood what Berwald was doing. He wanted him to be able to get away if things when awry.

"Jesus Christ," the voice boomed, "there's still other surivivors!" The man sounded like his throat was thick with tears, and instantly Tino felt his heart slowing its uneasy pace. Of course other survivors wouldn't be bad, they just wanted to find humanity like the rest of them. They just wanted to be safe. This world was turning everyone into hyper-paranoid creatures.

Tino listened as more footsteps approached, presumably belonging to the quieter man.

"Can you believe this, Lukas?"

Tino's eyes widened and his heart began picking up its dangerously quick pace again. It couldn't be. It couldn't.

He had known that the rest of his extended family were coming down to America for a visit, but they weren't due for another month. But they had shown up early on more than one occasion.

Tino pushed himself off of the wall, and in an act of complete trust in himself, he walked out into view. Berwald looked at him like he had lost his mind, but he didn't act on anything he was thinking or feeling. He just kept his eyes on the two men in front of him, ready to attack if they even so much as made the wrong move.

"Tino," the louder man cried, "oh my God, Tino."

Berwald looked confused, but his fear visibly started deflating at the man's easy use of the name. If he knew Tino, then there was nothing to fear. He did, however, choose not to sheath his knife quite yet.

"Mathias," Tino said, tears that were stagnating in his eyes for so long started to surface, dripping down his cheeks and going completely unnoticed by him. He was so overwhelmed, so unbelieving, that he was melded to the spot. It seemed that was the case with Mathias as well, as he only stood there looking at Tino unblinkingly like he was a mirage that would disappear as soon as he blinked his eyes. It was Lukas who finally acted on what he saw.

Lukas dropped the duffel bag that he had been holding over his shoulder and ran to Tino, grabbing him close but being careful not to grab too hard because of Peter. He ran so fast and grabbed Tino up so quickly that Berwald didn't even have time to react to what had happened. It didn't matter though, because the two men were no danger to them or the group.

If anything, the group was more of a danger to them.

"Tino," Lukas said, his breath brushing through Tino's soft blonde hair, "we thought that you had all been killed."

Tino didn't answer; he only continued to cling onto Lukas's shoulders.

"We went to your house, Tino," Mathias said, clearly trying to skirt around everything he had seen. "From what we saw, we assumed that you had either been killed or turned like everyone else. We didn't even have time to look for everyone because the neighbourhood was completely overrun. We would have died if we had stayed any longer"

Tino swallowed, "I was late coming back from work, I avoided everything."

"Did you," Lukas started, his breath coming short, "did you see…"

"I saw mother and father eating Emil," Tino said, "so yes, I saw."

Mathias cast his eyes toward the ground, "I'm so sorry, Tino. If only we'd come sooner…"

"You couldn't have changed anything," Tino said with a forced smiled. "I'm not even blaming myself, I know this couldn't have been prevented. In fact, I look at this as a God send. If I hadn't decided to come home late, I probably would have been attacked and turned into one of those things. I never would have been able to save Peter from those things - his parents turned."

The baby laughed when Tino pressed a finger to the tip of his nose.

Mathias finally walked forward, clapping a hand on Tino's shoulder when he finally got to him. He smiled at his younger cousin, then quickly looked up at Berwald who was still on edge. "Who's this?" Mathias asked bluntly, "is he another survivor?"

"Yes," Tino said without hesitation; he knew he was safe telling his cousins about the remaining survivors. They wouldn't use their own plan against them. "This is Berwald, and the baby I have in my arms is Peter Kirkland, the one I used to babysit all the time, remember?"

"Oh, I remember that," Mathias laughed, "the stuck up Kirkland's, how could I forget? I remember going to pick you up once and they almost took my head off at the gate." Mathias reminisced for a moment before looking back over – up – at Berwald. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Berwald," Mathias held out his hand, "thank you for taking care of my little cousin for me, I owe you one."

Berwald took the offered hand and gave a sharp nod in response to Mathias's thank you.

"There's more," Tino said.

"There's more what?" Lukas asked, finally pulling away from Tino so he could look him in the eyes.

"There's more survivors," Tino said.

Both of their ears visibly perked up at Tino's words.

"There's more people?" Mathias asked, "living, breathing people?"

"Yes, a lot of them, actually," Tino rocked Peter absently when the baby began to fuss, probably becoming hungry again. "We were actually hidden out in a hotel for two weeks, but we were eventually run out by the infected. We came here to stock up on supplies, and we have no clue what we're going to do from here on out."

"How many survivors?"

"I think about sixteen, including Berwald, Peter, and I."

"That's amazing," Lukas said, "I'm so happy, we were certain that we were the only ones left."

"I think we all felt like that," Tino said. "Berwald and I actually just need to stock up on ammo, then we can head back. The others will be probably be there by morning, or by the end of the day today. Come with us."

Mathias eyebrows knit together, "do you think they would mind."

"No," Tino said, "in fact they took us in without any questions and made us one of their own. They wouldn't be opposed to other survivors joining in, if anything, they would be happy about it; you would probably be regarded with less caution too because I know the both of you."

"Thank you," they both said, letting out long sighs of content.

It was so strange, in their new world things like finding water or finding another living person was a source of pleasure. Gone were the days of swimming at the beach, tanning on the lawn, or drinking a smoothie in the middle of a sunny park. Those were no longer available pleasures, they were just hopeless dreams.

"We have plenty of ammo in here," Lukas said, "we'll add that to the rest of your groups stock."

"Thank you," Tino said, watching Berwald's back as he walked toward the ammo depot.

"He's frightening," Lukas said quietly when Berwald's back finally disappeared inside the ammo depot.

"He looks frightening but he's actually a very gentle man," Tino said with a smile, "if it weren't for him, I would probably be dead right now."

"Then that's all that matters," Mathias said with a smile, "if he risked himself to protect you, or anyone else for that matter, then he's a good man."

Tino smiled, "of course."

Just as they were finishing discussing Peter, his habits, his age, his character traits, Berwald came back out of the ammo depot. He had a duffel bag stuffed with ammo, and he had a rifle strapped over his back. He truly was a scary looking man, if Tino had seen him before the ordeal he probably would have done his best to avoid ever even coming into contact with him. It was funny, because the only thing he could do now was cling to Berwald and follow him around like a puppy.

The term 'gentle giant' couldn't possibly fit anyone better.

Berwald took he rifle off of his back and slung it over Tino's shoulder, positioning it carefully under his arm so that if he needed to act fast he could do it without fumbling about.

"The safety is off," Berwald said, "be careful with it."

Tino nodded his head then looked at his two cousins, "are you guys ready to go?"

"We're ready."

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"Straight down there," Elizaveta said, "we can get everything we need in one go, it's perfect. We could be out of here by night time and we can spend it hiding out in the cars."

"Oh boy, that sounds safe," Arthur snapped.

Elizaveta turned around to face him completely, "It's better than being stuck in here where those things will be roaming around everywhere, at least outside we have the benefit of the doubt. If something really bad happens, and they start going after us, we can run. In here we're trapped like mice. Does that sound 'safe' to you?"

Arthur rolled his eyes but otherwise chose not to continue his argument with the blonde woman. She had the better of him, he could see that clearly. He also didn't want to give Roderich another reason to open his mouth.

"I still don't think splitting up was a good idea," Alfred said with a frown. "We're only getting water, ammo, clothes and food. All of these things could have been grabbed in under an hour with the entire group together."

Roderich scoffed.

"What now?" Alfred asked sharply, whipping his head toward Roderich.

"I just don't think that you know what you're talking about," Roderich said with a snide grin. "This was plotted out with most of the groups agreement, it's not like you didn't have a say. And didn't you agree with this idea to begin with? The only one I recall hearing disagreeing with the idea was Heracles and Lovino, and they both eventually got put in their respective places"

"Shut up," Alfred said, "I'm just starting to feel like this wasn't a good idea after all."

"Look," Elizaveta said. "Let's just get what we need and go, I don't want to hear any more arguments from any of you three."

Alfred went the way of Arthur and became quiet; he didn't want to stir up trouble. The last thing they needed was to fight and then have a horde on their tail. That wouldn't end well for any of them.

Roderich, however, didn't seem to be thinking like they were.

Roderich turned around to face Alfred as soon as they entered the store, stopping him in his tracks. "You know, I would have been a lot safer if you hadn't broken my arm."

"It's in the past," Elizaveta said, tone serious as she regarded the two men standing off at the front of the darkened store. "Let's go and get everything, it's getting dark and we have no light source. This will end bad. Do you understand me?"

"Yeah, Roderich, let's fucking go," Alfred said, pushing Roderich's shoulder roughly and shoving his way past him into the store. He was the first to go in, and the first to come out.

"Don't you touch me," Roderich said, "and don't turn your back on me when you provoke a fight, stupid ignorant American." Roderich grabbed Alfred by the shoulder and hauled him back toward him, bringing their foreheads together.

The room was getting darker.

Elizaveta ran into the store and grabbed as many water jugs as she could, deciding to disregard the two men fighting and the clothes that hung on the racks. They wouldn't stop, no matter what she did, so she wanted to be prepared for the worst. They could live without clothes.

She wasn't prepared for what happened next.

Alfred ripped Roderich's hands off of his shoulder and pushed him back into the many shelves scaled with water and various other liquids. Roderich flew back and hit the shelves, the impact causing the first set to tip over and crash loudly into the ground.

Everything shook.

"You idiot," Arthur said to Alfred, "I know he's making you angry, but fucking think before you do stuff like this. This isn't about your anger, it's about getting what we need and getting out, now we're going to have the whole fucking mall aft-"

Roderich shouted.

"Roderich," Elizaveta shouted, trying to adjust her eyes to the darkness so she could find her best friend. He was nowhere in sight, but it was clear from the sounds that he was having a struggle with someone – or something.

"God damn," Arthur said, pawing through the duffel bag slung over his shoulder for something that would give off light. Anything.

"It's no use," Elizaveta said, running blindly into the dark toward Roderich's voice. She couldn't - wouldn't - wait for Arthur to find something to show her the way.

That was her downfall.

The struggle ensued, except this time Elizaveta's voice joined the symphony of shouts and screams.

She was screaming, and so was Roderich.

"There," Arthur said triumphantly, looking over his shoulder before he brought out a lighter; the only thing he had on him that could help them see through the darkness.

The store filled with light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome, Mathias and Lukas!
> 
> This is probably my longest chapter! I was working on it during the week I took off, even though I promised myself I would take a break for once. I just can't help myself anymore, writing this has become an addiction for me.
> 
> So, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I know it's not necessarily "Action-Packed," but it will be next chapter. Oh boy, just you wait. I was just setting the scene for what's about to come. I've already started working on it and I think it's safe to say that some of the developments will shock you right out of your pants.
> 
> Thanks for reading, get ready for next week's chapter!


	19. Abduction

He knew that he would face a struggle as soon as he showed his face, but he didn't expect the struggle to be quite so difficult. As soon as he had appeared in front of the infected they looked up and attacked him without any hesitation. Ludwig, of course, was prepared for their attack, but he wasn't prepared for their strength. The ones he faced inside the mall seemed even stronger than the ones by the hotel.

They were growing in strength.

Ludwig held his ground and waited for the first one to lunge, and when it did, he drove his knife up into the base of its skull and pulled it out expertly. He wouldn't allow himself to make the same mistake he had at the hotel. If he wanted his knife back, he needed to avoid plunging his knife into their eye sockets, their joints, or any other areas that would restrict his knife.

The body fell to the ground in a bloody heap at his feet, motionless and lifeless as soon as Ludwig's knife was retrieved. Though the creatures were arguably more powerful than they had been before, they still died with a knife to the brain.

The second one ran at Ludwig with a ferocity unlike the first one, its teeth were clacking and its arms were stretched out toward him as if the creature was looking to be embraced. Ludwig did not hesitate to kill this one. It too fell to the ground beside its infected brethren, lifeless and breathless with no semblance of its previous self remaining. Ludwig spit on the corpse and stuck the knife back into the makeshift knife holster wrapped around his thigh.

With each passing creature Ludwig was becoming quicker and smarter in dealing with the infected, he was also becoming more emotionless when it came to killing them. Before he would feel guilt - even sadness - at having to kill the creatures that used to be humans just like he and the rest of them. But, as the days progressed and the number of the infected he'd killed began stacking up, his sympathy for the once sane creatures began steadily decreasing. He could now do it without batting an eyelash. Whether that could be considered a good thing or a bad thing was a nagging question.

"Wow," Feliciano said as Ludwig turned back around to face them, "you're really strong, Luddy."

"The key to killing them is not strength, Feliciano. If you kill them before they get their hands on you, you don't even need to worry about how strong you are." Ludwig said as he absently flicked the creature's blood off of his right hand and onto the floor beside the motionless corpses.

"I don't think I could do that," Feliciano said with a frown, regarding Ludwig's bloodied form while worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.

Lovino was about to open his mouth to remind Feliciano that he already had done it - had already killed one of the infected - but vetoed against it. He remembered the way his brother had broken down after saving Ludwig; they didn't need a repeat of that in the middle of a mall that could be scaled with the infected in question. Lovino, instead, patted his brother on the back and directed him toward the dairy. "It doesn't matter, Feliciano, we'll be out of here in no time."

Feliciano nodded his head as he allowed his brother to guide him toward the dairy.

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"Right here," Heracles said, pointing at a silver door gleaming in the late afternoon sun. He grabbed Kiku's shoulder and strung him along behind him without waiting for his response. Heracles cautiously opened the light metal door and entered slowly, peeking around each corner before approaching the fuse box at the front of the room. They were both lucky that there was nothing waiting for them inside, the whole way down they were in direct sunlight, and the circuit room itself was large and barren. If need be, they would be able to hide out in the confines of the double-bolt locked room.

Heracles closed the door behind them quietly, grateful that there was a window in the circuit room so they could see through the dark. If there hadn't been one, they would have had to have risked their lives by keeping the door to the outside of the mall open. That could have invited a lot of unwanted attention.

Heracles locked the door behind them and instantly got to work on re-routing the circuits in the mall. He knelt down in front of the machine and whipped the door to the heavy fuse box open; he was immediately befuddled by what he saw.

"What is it?" Kiku asked in a worried tone, leaning over Heracles' tense shoulders. He - unlike Heracles - knew absolutely nothing about circuits, so the tangle of coloured wires and twisted copper in front of him didn't mean anything other than 'energy'. However, Heracles clearly seemed disturbed by the state of the wires inside the box.

"Someone did this purposely," Heracles said. "Someone came in here, re-routed the circuits, and shorted them out in the process."

"Why would someone do that?" Kiku asked. "If they wanted to stay here, what would have been the purpose of that? And didn't they know that someone else could want to come here to get supplies, why would they make that so difficult?"

Heracles swallowed hard around a growing lump in his throat. He was certain that he knew the answers to those questions, but he didn't want to answer them in fear of being right. He didn't want to know the answers to the questions Kiku was posing, he didn't want to be right in his thinking. Heracles didn't want to think someone could be so cruel – so barbaric.

"Heracles?" Kiku asked, concerned.

"We need to go," Heracles said in a harsh whisper, "we need to go, get the other groups together, and leave right away. We can wait to get supplies from somewhere else."

"You're scaring me," Kiku said as he watched Heracles close the box without giving it another look. "Heracles, what's wrong? You know that we can't do that, Ludwig and Gilbert both said that we would run out of gas before we even got anywhere else."

"Gas doesn't matter, our lives do, and if we stay here we're all going to die. Even if we run out of gas on a different supply run, we can still walk. It's safer than staying here, Kiku. We need to leave, now."

"Hera-"

"You're clever, I'll give you that," a husky voice started, echoing around the circuit room. "But, I expected this. I had two weeks to analyse the lot of you, after all."

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"Shouldn't we have taken more?" Antonio asked as he lugged another carton of milk under his arms.

"No," Ludwig said as they made their way back to the gun depot, "it would be pointless, it will all go bad in a matter of weeks. The powdered milk is more important because Peter could live off of it for months. Even though he's an older child, it could still sustain him for a long time."

Antonio nodded his head in agreement and followed close behind the rest of the group. Antonio hadn't dealt much with babies as a nurse, but what Ludwig was saying was common sense.

They had made it to the dairy without too many problems; however the sun was descending faster than they had expected it to. Places inside the store were already becoming too dark for comfort, and the time it was taking Heracles and Kiku to get back was starting to nag their fears back into place. They tried not to bring the two men up, afraid that it would jinx any progress that the two of them were making. The only thing they needed to worry about was getting back to the rest of the group safely; everything else would have to be put on the back burner.

When they stopped in front of the weapon depot Ludwig took the duffel bag off of his shoulder and handed it over to Antonio, who in turn took it without questioning him.

"Is it locked?" Lovino asked from behind Ludwig.

"Yes," Ludwig said as he scratched the back of his head, "I don't know why though."

"What do you mean?" Lovino asked, "wouldn't it make sense to lock it all up? There are weapons in there after all."

"The outbreak happened during the day," Ludwig corrected, "so it shouldn't have been locked. Unless, of course, they locked it while running out of the mall, but I doubt anyone would take the time to do that during all the chaos."

"Hmm," Lovino said, appearing just as confused as the rest of them, "so what do we do? We can't just break the damn glass."

Ludwig didn't respond to the Italian's incessant questioning and started inspecting the lock on the door. It was connected to an electronic alert system, but since there was no power running through the building, they didn't have to worry about it making noise if they tried to break in. The only problem from them was the fact that if they broke it, it would leave them vulnerable during the night. If the infected somehow learned to manoeuvre door handles, that would spell bad luck for them.

"I could break it," Ludwig said, "but that would leave us open for attack if one of the infected decided to try to get in."

"Wonderful," Lovino said, letting out a breathless laugh.

"Other than that, if any of you know how to pick a lock, now would be a good time to put your skill to use."

Lovino shifted uncomfortably.

"Lovi knows how," Feliciano said with a shrug.

"How the hell do you know that, dumb ass?" Lovino asked, all the while glaring at his younger brother for opening his mouth.

"Because, dummy, I remember you picking the lock on the neighbours fence when we were little so we could go swim-"

Lovino put his right hand over his brother's mouth, but it was pointless, his brother had already successfully spilled all the details. All the details, that were, sadly all too true.

Ludwig and Antonio both looked at Lovino with twin lopsided smirks.

"When I was little," Lovino said, regarding the remainder of the group with a heady glare before looking back at Feliciano. "And you shut your damn mouth for once."

Ludwig wanted to scoff at the irony.

"So, can you pick it?" Ludwig asked.

"Yes, damn it, I can pick it," Lovino said, shrugging past Ludwig with a bitter look on his face. He leaned in close and examined the lock for a brief moment before holding out his hand. "I need a safety pin from the first-aid kit," Lovino said before turning around to face Antonio - who was holding the duffel bag with the first-aid kit.

Antonio reached inside the duffel bag and retrieved the first-aid kit, carefully pulling out the bag of safety pins from its confines. Before he could even hand it over to Lovino the dark haired man ripped it out of his hands and pulled a safety pin out of the bag, completely disregarding the rest and allowing them to fall on the ground in a messy heap. Antonio didn't even complain as he hunkered down - resting on his haunches - and began picking up the fallen safety pins. Lovino ignored this as he dropped to his knees in front of the lock, squinting his eyes as he tried to properly open it. With a few curses, Lovino successfully yanked the door open without any protest.

"There," Lovino said as he handed his bent safety pin over to Antonio - as if he hadn't just let a whole bag full of them fall to the floor carelessly.

Ludwig nodded his head in thanks and walked forward into the room with the rest of the group in tow.

When they proceeded into the shop, closing the door tight behind themselves, Lovino heard a gut-wrenching scream coming from the floor just beneath them. He didn't tell the rest of the group, but only because he himself didn't want to believe what he had heard.

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Both Heracles and Kiku froze to the spot, bodies tense and still as they waited for the source of the voice to appear in front of them. The voice in question sounded like it belonged to an incredibly deceitful man, all high syllables - heavily accented.

"Are you going to show us your face, or are you going to continue ridiculing us from your hiding spot?" Heracles asked.

The man let out a deep, throaty chuckle before he appeared from behind a large pillar at the far end of the room. He was a handsome man, very tall and lean, with medium brown skin. His hair was messy, sticking out at odd ends - probably from not being washed for so long. His clothes, however, were so neat one would think they had just come from being washed and ironed. "Sadiq Adnan," the man said, "pleased to finally meet you."

Had the man not been toting a double-barrelled rifle like it was a toy, Heracles and Kiku might not have become so tense at his appearance. But, because he was, in fact, toting around a double-barrelled rifle like it was a toy, pointing it straight at them, Kiku and Heracles had no choice but to go on the defensive. This man hadn't shown up to make friends, that was for sure.

"Boys," Sadiq said with a dismissive wave of his hands, "there's nothing much you can really do now, so stop with the angry faces. As long as you answer to me, and follow all of my directions, I won't hurt you or your little friends; I promise."

"How does he know all of this about us," Kiku whispered breathlessly into Heracles ear, trying to keep his voice low enough to avoid Sadiq's exceptional hearing. But, even though his voice was at its lowest tone, Sadiq still picked up everything he said to Heracles.

"Like I said," Sadiq shrugged his shoulders, "I've been keeping tabs on all of you for over two weeks, I learned quite a few things about your little group."

"What do you mean by keeping tabs?" Heracles asked.

"I mean exactly what I said: I've been keeping tabs on all of you. I know all of your names – compliments of your little meeting after the car crash – and I know most of your personal feelings – compliments of the bugs embedded in the walls of your rooms."

"How were you even capable of doing that?" Heracles asked. "How could you plant bugs without our knowledge?"

Sadiq shrugged his shoulders, "I have my ways; ways that I'm certainly not sharing with any of you."

Heracles gritted his teeth, but chose to remain calm to save face in front of the brash man, the last thing he needed to do was look careless in the face of danger.

"So, now that we have all that out on the table, you must know that it would be wise not to speak out against me, am I right in assuming so?"

Heracles and Kiku remained quiet.

"I'm assuming your lack of response means you're going to follow my orders, but you aren't going to do it happily. If that's how it's going to be with you two, then I'm fine with that."

Heracles grit his teeth, "what will you have us do then, Sadiq?" Heracles said his name with indignance, all the while biting the inside of his cheeks.

"You'll follow me," Sadiq said, "and don't even try to defy me or run away, I know this entire place like the back of my hands. I'll hunt you down and kill you – that is, assuming that the brain-dead creatures dwelling in the dark don't get you first."

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"We can bunk down in here for the night," Ludwig said as he laid his jacket down on the floor. "Early tomorrow morning we'll head back down to the first floor, if we're lucky we'll meet up with the others at the same time. If not, we can wait the night out inside one of the cars."

"I hope no one got hurt today," Feliciano said, "and hopefully no one gets hurt tomorrow, too."

"I don't think so, Feli, we would have heard something, or someone would have given us some sort of warning through the radios Heracles set up for us." Antonio looked down at his pocket, "speaking of the radio…" Antonio brought the device out and held it up to his ear, and with creased eyebrows, pulled it away and started flipping the device around in his hand as if he were inspecting it.

"What's wrong?" Lovino asked, getting close to Antonio to look at what he was doing, unintentionally putting his hand down on one of his thighs. It was getting too dark for any of them to see where anything was.

"Nothing, it's just-" Antonio shook the device a few more times and pressed a few buttons before bringing it back up to his ear. "The lights are on, but for some reason the radio is completely dead. None of the speaker buttons or the paging buttons are working on it."

"Here," Lovino said, holding his hand out in the darkness toward Antonio for the radio that he had been holding, "maybe you're not pressing the right things."

"I'm pretty sure I'm pressing all the right buttons," Antonio said. But, despite this, he handed the radio over to Lovino.

Lovino meddled with the device just like Antonio, but he couldn't get it working. "Piece of garbage," Lovino said, handing it back over to Antonio without any warning.

"It's not too much of a concern," Ludwig said, "we'll be meeting them all tomorrow, and I'm sure their radios are working just fine. It's probably just a technical malfunction, it's happened before. Stop worrying."

Feliciano tried to stifle a yawn, but it came out of his mouth despite his efforts.

"The rest of you should all go to bed," Ludwig said as he watched the younger Italian shift uncomfortably. "It's almost completely dark out, so those things are most likely going to start roaming around."

Feliciano nodded quickly from where he was hidden behind a shelf of locked up hunting knives. He and Lovino and Antonio were all pressed up close to hide themselves from the large and revealing plate glass at the front of the store. If the creatures were stealthier and a lot smarter than they were to begin with, they would have no doubt seen all of them, but the creatures were seemingly completely mindless, meandering around for the sole purpose of finding their next meal. They relied heavily on their senses; senses that seemed to be weak. The only thing that was strong about them was their sense of smell. All of these things were to question; none of them were scientists, after all.

Ludwig backed away from them and hid himself behind the shelves adjacent to the ones the other three were hiding behind.

"Aren't you going to sleep, Luddy?" Feliciano asked in a tired drawl. Lovino and Antonio were already both falling asleep, eyelids fluttering helplessly as they tried to listen in one what Ludwig was telling Feliciano.

"No, I'm going to keep watch. When we get out of this place tomorrow I'll have plenty of time to sleep. That is the last thing on my mind right now."

"You can wake one of us up," Feliciano said, "right guys?"

Antonio and Lovino both let out a quiet sigh, whether that meant 'yes' or 'no' wasn't clear, but it didn't matter to Ludwig. He didn't want to disturb any of their sleeping; he didn't care if it meant destroying his own physical health.

Ludwig backed himself up against the wall and stared out through the cracks in the cabinet, looking out at the quickly descending sun. Dusk was already upon them.

"Aww, so cute," Ludwig heard Feliciano rumble quietly at the two men sleeping beside him. Ludwig looked down to see that Lovino was wedged in between Antonio and Feliciano, where Antonio had casually snuck an arm around Lovino's slight shoulders. The Spanish man had presumably done so right after Lovino had fallen asleep. Ludwig just shook his head at them and returned to keeping watch, enjoying the brief silence; something he hadn't seen in a long while.

Ludwig was having a hard time keeping his eyes open when the sun had finally ebbed off into a dusky orange glow, with the silence and the barely audible sound of the other men's soft, steady breathing; it was becoming a difficult task. Night was only beginning, so Ludwig stood up to stretch his legs out and wake himself up.

"It's really OK to sleep," Feliciano said, his voice surprising Ludwig. He thought Feliciano had fallen asleep as soon as his head hit the floor, considering he had been so tired to begin with.

Ludwig looked down at the sleepy Italian and mustered his best fake smile, "it's not safe, someone needs to keep an eye out just in case something happens."

"Ludwig," Feliciano said seriously, "they're very noisy creatures, and that's bullet proof glass, we would all wake up if they tried something."

Ludwig's forehead creased, "I guess you're right, but we don't know what they're capable of quite yet. They did break into the hotel without our knowing, after all."

"We were in the middle of an argument, we couldn't have heard over all of the yelling," Feliciano said, voice ebbing off as he finally began drifting off to sleep. Ludwig watched for a while as Feliciano pressed himself up against his brother's side in his sleep, their fingers unconsciously intertwining as they brushed together. They looked like children, calm and unspoilt.

Ludwig fell into a fitful sleep an hour later.

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"Keep your pace up," Sadiq said harshly, jabbing Kiku in the back with the barrel of his gun.

Kiku picked up his speed, keeping in close stride with the much taller Heracles. They had had no choice but to follow Sadiq's every whim because they both knew that the man would not hesitate to kill them, or any of the others, for that matter. They couldn't pick out what he wanted with them - or what use he had for them – other than to torment them for his own sick pleasures.

Heracles bit down on his bottom lip as words tried to work their way out of his mouth. Instead, he focused on walking away from the man as quickly as possible, heavy glare present on his face. Kiku had never seen him looking quite so angry. There was something about the man that had caused it, but Kiku couldn't quite put his finger on it.

They were being directed through the darkness, but Sadiq seemed confident in them not running into any of the infected. It seemed as though he had the entire place mapped out strategically, knowing which way to go and which way not to go. He directed them through the dark with ease, not even bothering to shine a light - literally - on their situation.

"Stop," Sadiq said suddenly, causing both Heracles and Kiku to come to a jilted halt. Sadiq walked forward quickly, keeping his gun pointed at Heracles and Kiku all the while; only the outline of his body and the gun he held in his hand could be made out in the dark. "Don't even try to run," Sadiq said sternly, "not that it really matters to me. Even if you tried, you wouldn't be able to find your way through the darkness like I can, and of course, there's always the fact that I would shoot you both down before you could even take a dozen steps away from me."

Heracles scoffed.

"Is there something you wanted to say, Heracles?" Sadiq asked, voice rising steadily over the sound of grinding metal. They couldn't pinpoint what he was doing, but Kiku had an idea that Sadiq was leading them into a room.

Just as he was about to risk asking the man where they were going, his question was answered when a loud metallic creak stung his ears and a bright stripe of light painted his face gold.

"Go in before me," Sadiq said, taking his place behind them and shoving the barrel of his gun into their backs again. "I have someone in there that I'm sure you'd like to meet."

Heracles stumbled in first with Kiku following close behind. They walked into the artificially lit room and both landed on their knees in front of a very familiar face.

It was Arthur.

† -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- †

Antonio woke up to Lovino shaking his shoulders and whispering his name harshly. He sat up quickly and squinted, trying to make out Lovino's face in the inky darkness of the room. Even with his eyes adjusted to the darkness he could only make out the outlines of Lovino's face.

"What is it?" Antonio asked, voice still groggy from sleep.

"I heard yelling, and gun shots," Lovino said, his voice shaking. Antonio hadn't even noticed Lovino clinging to him until he felt Lovino's body trembling against his.

"I- I'm sure whoever it was is fine," Antonio said doubtfully, "but there's no point in dwelling on it, Lovi, there's nothing we can do in this darkness."

Lovino didn't stop shaking, "it sounded like Francis."

Antonio swallowed hard and let his eyes close, but he only did so because he knew Lovino couldn't see him. Had Lovino been able to see him, he probably would have tried to keep a false smile on his face to comfort the man. If someone was screaming, trapped outside with those things in the darkness, there wasn't much of a chance for survival. He sincerely hoped that wasn't it, but he had a feeling it was exactly what he thought it was.

"Even earlier, I heard a girl screaming and another man crying…"

"Lovi," Antonio said quietly, "there's nothing you could have done about it, OK? Stop dwelling on it, you're only going to make yourself sick." Antonio cautiously wrapped a comforting arm around Lovino's shoulders, "I'm sure everyone's fine. Now go back to sleep, you need your rest for tomorrow."

Lovino was quiet for a moment, but he complied with a quiet 'ok', and surprisingly didn't push Antonio's arm away. Instead he curled into him, face pressed into the crook of his shoulder. Whether he did it intentionally or unintentionally, it was something Antonio wouldn't come for forget.

Two hours later, they were woken up at the break of dawn by another scream, this one even more blood-curdling than the last. If any of them were asked to describe the sound, the word that they would all use would be 'heart-broken'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go, guys! I know it's a little late, but my week was packed with last minute scholarship applications (what a pain). But, I'm almost done with everything! Almost all of my applications have been sent out, so things are going to finally start calming down!
> 
> Thank you for your patience, guys, really.


	20. Hold Me

Matthew had experienced fear multiple times in his life, each moment a little more intense than the last. People had jumped out at him from behind closed doors, people had grabbed his ankles while he tried to climb into bed, and in one instance he had almost been mugged by a nameless man while walking home from the grocery story. However, all of these instances of fear paled in comparison to the fear he felt when he saw a horde of the infected approaching them – running at them – from over Francis' tensed shoulders.

Matthew had been in bad situations before, just like any normal person, but he'd never been placed in such a high stakes one. Matthew was stuck in between two oblivious men, one of which that would no doubt die in the mall at the hands of the infected. Francis was still too busy cursing and damning Gilbert's injury, while Gilbert himself was incapacitated because of the roaring agony in his head. If Matthew didn't act fast, there was a huge chance that they would all be taken out in one fell swoop.

Matthew took two steps back, opened his mouth, and screamed – the only thing he knew that had the power to warn Francis and Gilbert about what was about to happen.

In succession Francis looked over his shoulder, eyes wide and wild, and started running in Matthew and Gilbert's direction. Gilbert managed to raise his head enough to see what was happening – and with Francis and Matthew's help – got up from the floor. The pain was so severe in Gilbert's head that he was barely reacting to their situation; just like he had before, he was going into a somewhat lethargic state.

Due to their circumstance none of them had the chance to look over the map of the third floor properly, and because of the overwhelming fear they were all feeling, they didn't even think about where they were running. They ran aimlessly, passing through dark corridors, limping over broken glass, and looking over their shoulders every few seconds. It seemed that no matter where they went, the infected were on them. They weren't giving them up.

"Damn it," Francis cursed under his breath after they came to a jilted stop in front of a set of metallic green doors.

"What?" Matthew asked, out of breath. Matthew was confused at Francis' sudden stop, the infected were hot on their trail and would find them in a matter of seconds by scent alone. They needed to keep going or they would lose all of the progress they had made, and considering it was getting darker, they would need to make as much headway as possible.

"They're not going to stop," Francis said through tightly clenched teeth.

"Of course they're not," Matthew shouted, "they haven't stopped since this outbreak first happened. What are you talking about?"

"I'm saying that even if we get through these doors, they'll know were in there. They'll kill all of us. We can barricade the doors, sure, but eventually they'll break through it. Remember, Lovino and Antonio saw them break a pane of bulletproof glass in a matter of minutes?"

"Then let's keep running," Matthew suggested, peeking over his shoulder to see if the infected were finally closing in on them. Lucky for them, they were still quite a few paces behind; but they were coming, there was no doubt about that.

"We can't, Matt," Francis shouted, "that's the problem, we can't keep doing this! Eventually we'll have to stop, or we'll come across another group; we can't all escape this unscathed. We can't."

Matthew's eyebrows quirked, he didn't understand what his friend was getting at. It sounded to Matthew like Francis was suggesting they just give up. "What do you suggest we do then, Francis?"

"You and Gilbert go into the food court, and I'll stay out here."

Matthew couldn't quite explain the feeling, but the best way he could describe it was that it felt as if his heart had stopped pounding completely. The only thing he could feel was his blood listlessly making its way through his veins. He looked up at his friend incredulously, trying desperately to find the familiar glint in his eyes that told Matthew he was just joking; just pulling his leg.

He looked and looked, but he couldn't find it.

Matthew shook his head, swallowing hard as he tried to get his voice working, "no, no, no, no." Matthew backed up – ready to rip into his friend – but was stopped when Gilbert finally pitched into the conversation, he woke up just in time to see what kind of situation they were stuck in.

"That's idiotic," Gilbert said with a jolt, holding his hand tight to the weeping wound on the side of his head. "You're one of the healthiest here, and you're suggesting giving up your life? Don't be so noble."

"We have to do something to ward them off," Francis said.

"I understand tha-"

"No one has to do anything," Matthew shouted, looking over his shoulder after he did so. "Look, we can all go into the food court and if something happens, well…" Matthew fidgeted on the spot, unconsciously grabbing the hem of his shirt sleeve. Matthew didn't know what they could do; he just didn't want to lose someone to a death so brutal. He didn't want to sacrifice anything.

Gilbert gave Matthew a pitying look – the best one he could muster considering his blood-marred face – then continued. "I understand that we need to do this, but what I don't understand is why you're suggesting it. Let me do it." Gilbert laughed, the undamaged side of his face lighting up as he did so, "I'm almost dead anyway."

Francis regarded Gilbert with an inconceivable expression before he grabbed the rifle of his shoulder and brought it to chest level, pointed directly at Gilbert. For one horrible moment, Matthew thought that Francis was going to finish the job – use Gilbert as bait.

However, before Matthew could even protest, the doors to the food court were swung open and he and Gilbert were pushed through the doors. Both of them landed heavily on their backsides, and the twin duffel bags they were carrying rolled away from them in messy heaps.

Francis smiled one last time at Matthew before closing the door and leaving he and Gilbert completely alone.

Gilbert stood up – by himself – and walked to the door clumsily; it was clear that his head was starting to feel better, but the side effects of the pain were taking a heavy toll on him. Gilbert threw his weight into the door - to which it groaned in protest – but still did not open. He pounded on it, threw his weight into it some more, but it still would not open for him.

Matthew finally knew what Francis had done.

Francis hadn't meant to shoot Matthew or Gilbert with the gun, he meant to use it to keep the door to the food court locked, so Matthew and Gilbert couldn't get out, and so the infected couldn't get in.

Matthew's breathing didn't slow down, even from where he sat on the floor unmoving. He was waiting for the sound of the approaching infected, waiting for the sound of his best friend screaming and crying out in pain. He hadn't even gotten a chance to properly say goodbye to his long-time best friend, the only thing he garnered was a smile from Francis. That was it, that was the last time he would ever see his friend again.

"Dumb fucking f-" Gilbert sputtered off into a tangent as he pounded on the door repeatedly. His efforts were fruitless, and he knew this, but it didn't stop him from taking his apparent anger out on the set of doors that were now sealing their fates.

Gilbert got quiet.

There it was, the sound of the infected approaching.

Gilbert turned around, grabbed Matthew by the shoulders, and pushed him toward the back of the food court. There was a sky light on the roof of the building, but the light of day was weaning severely, it was still hard to see around the food court properly. Matthew was beginning to understand what Gilbert felt like with his left eye. He bumped into things, overturned chairs, and fell onto his knees more than once as they made their way away from the closed doors.

They came to a stop at a Mediterranean Food establishment, where Gilbert manhandled him behind the food counter.

"What are you doing?" Matthew whispered, trying to wriggle out of the stronger man's tight grip.

"Get down," Gilbert said, ignoring Matthew's questions.

Matthew didn't listen right away, demanding to be answered.

"If you don't want to die, you'll sit!" Gilbert shouted, echoing through the once bustling food court. They were lucky that Francis was outside to distract them, or else they may have changed course and attacked the food court.

Matthew did as he was told and hunkered down beside Gilbert, where things got completely silent. The only thing that could be heard was the sound of the infected running close behind Francis outside the food court walls, and the sound of Francis' feet clapping against the ground as he ran away from them. Judging by how close they sounded to him, his efforts were fruitless.

Matthew closed his eyes and gripped the front of his jeans, silently praying that Francis would get away. That somehow, Francis would come across another group and he would be saved. They would meet up, go outside, and leave for another safe haven. Francis would be fine, and so would he and Gilbert. They would find another place just like the hotel, and eventually they would find out that the rest of the world wasn't facing the same dilemma as the United States. Matthew would be re-united with his family and everyone would live happily ever a-

A gut-wrenching scream ripped through the air, simultaneously delivering a brutal punch to Matthew's already damaged heart. His fantasies shattered into tiny intricate pieces in a matter of seconds.

There was no hope for them.

The scream in question was filled with indescribable emotions, and all of them were bad. The scream spoke of fear, sadness, and unbearable terror. It continued for a long time, maybe a half an hour or an hour, before ebbing off into unconscious shouts and cries for help. Matthew couldn't judge the time, the only thing he knew was that it had gone from late-afternoon to nightfall by the time Francis stopped screaming for help.

After a few long, and agonizing hours, Francis was finally dead.

Matthew sobbed; he couldn't hear himself, but he could feel his body quivering from the unbelievable grief – the feeling of loss. He tried to be quiet, but he couldn't, the sounds escaped his throat as easily as the tears made tracks down his face.

He was happy that darkness had finally fallen, because even though he was grieving, he didn't want Gilbert to see his face. Not when he was so broken up and emotionally destroyed.

Two minutes later Matthew felt strong arms wrap around his shoulders, encompassing him and pulling him into a strong, warm chest. He didn't protest, he just let himself be held by the older man. After a shock so severe, he was more than happy for the comfort.

Some moments later Matthew's erratic sobbing began settling down, and the sound of the infected outside grew quieter. However, Matthew's growing sadness didn't settle, it was only his tears that stopped flowing. He remained quiet, revelling in the quiet comfort that Gilbert was offering him.

"That might not have been Francis," Matthew said, hanging on his own words despite how desperate they sounded. Even though every part of him knew it was Francis out there begging to be saved, he hung on his own hopeless words.

Gilbert didn't answer him.

For a moment Matthew thought that the man had fallen asleep, but he quickly realized he hadn't when he felt Gilbert's hands brushing through his sweat matted hair.

"Don't cry," Gilbert said quietly, "it's going to be OK."

Matthew moved his left hand up to his eyes, fingertips brushing through the salty tears that were still running down his face. He thought he had stopped, but it was apparent that his tears had a mind of their own. Matthew pulled his hands away from his face and began sobbing again; he couldn't stop himself. Someone telling him not to cry, and telling him that things were going to be OK didn't fix anything, even if they were said with good intentions they couldn't do anything to fix anyone's situation. Nothing could fix Matthew's grief, but he was thankful that Gilbert was at least trying to make it better for him.

"It's not OK, actually," Matthew said, burying the side of his face into Gilbert's heaving chest. It was apparent that he wasn't taking too well to the situation either. He wasn't crying, but he was distressed all the same.

"I know," Gilbert said, stifled. "It doesn't hurt to try to make things better, no?"

Matthew chuckled throatily through his tears, trying to save face in front of the German. As pathetic as it was, Matthew didn't want to look weak in front of Gilbert, even in their horrible situation.

"We're surrounded, aren't we?" Matthew asked, already knowing the answer to the question he was posing to the burly German.

"We are," Gilbert said, "it sounds like they've left, but they've really just become silent, they've eate-" Gilbert grew quiet, words coming out of his mouth before he could stop them.

"You're right," Matthew said with a shrug, "don't try to apologize for saying something I already know about. They've eaten Francis, and they're going to be full for a little while before getting hungry again. As they get hungrier, they're senses will become stronger and eventually they'll find us. That's exactly what's going to happen."

Gilbert was quiet for a moment, then Matthew felt Gilbert's chest trembling as he laughed. Matthew looked up at the man, confused.

"Apologizing is your job, right?" Gilbert asked. Matthew swore that Gilbert was smiling, even though he couldn't see it through the darkness.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Matthew said.

The room grew quiet for a long time, and the infected outside could be heard more clearly because of the striking silence. Every once in a while they would hear the sound of feet dragging against the ground, or the sound of one of them grunting or moaning something or another. They were stuffed, so they weren't actively seeking out anything to eat. The problem was that they probably would be searching for something to eat soon. Soon, with a lack of food, their noses would become hypersensitive to smells, and even with the blockade of the food court's scents, they would smell Matthew and Gilbert. Gilbert had seen so first-hand when Lovino and Antonio had been stuck in the hospital.

They would come to get them eventually, Matthew and Gilbert both knew this. They had weapons on the other side of the food court, and they could go and get them, but they couldn't put up much of a fight against a horde. There was also the fact that Matthew couldn't quite aim properly, which would result in a huge waste in bullets and an advantage for the infected. They also needed to be back at the meeting spot by the end of the second day, or they would be left behind to deal with the infected.

"Is the radio working yet?" Matthew asked from where he was still glued to Gilbert's side. He asked quietly just in case the man had already fallen asleep.

They had tried to get the radio working when they first walked up, but they settled with the idea that the radio was either out of power, or just malfunctioning for the moment.

It couldn't have picked a worse time to conk out on them.

"Nope," Gilbert said quietly, "I would have tried using it a long time ago if it had been working properly."

Matthew sighed, cursing the darkness and the quiet of the room. The only thing he could hear was the sound of infected roaming outside; the infected that would eventually spell their demise. During the silence, almost ten minutes after discussing the radios, Matthew had an idea.

"Tell me a story," Matthew suggested, assuming that Gilbert didn't like the silence as much as he did.

"What kind of story?" Gilbert asked.

"Any kind of story," Matthew said, "something about your family, your pets, tell me how you're feeling. I don't care, as long as I can't hear those things roaming around outside anymore."

Gilbert was quiet for a moment as he thought of a story, any kind of story, to help Matthew cope. If it meant telling him his deepest, darkest secrets, than he was ok with that. They were probably going to die in a matter of days, anyway. "OK, I have a story to tell you, it's about a sad part of my life."

"I did say any story, but maybe a spirit lifting one would be better…"

"It's sad to begin with, but it gets better, I promise," Gilbert said, patting Matthew's head and stroking his hair. These normally intimate touches weren't phasing either of them, which was probably due to their situation. Normal people wouldn't be touching like that, but they weren't normal anymore. Any kind of comfort or touch was welcome in their new world.

"OK, go on then," Matthew said, unintentionally snuggling up to Gilbert. However, the man didn't react, in fact, he almost encouraged it by drawing his arms further back so Matthew was pressed even closer to him.

"I was born in a small German village in Brandenburg to a loving mother and father," Gilbert said, "pretty normal – good life by my standards." Gilbert's hand didn't cease its brushing motion, "for a long time, I was really happy."

Matthew looked up, "you told this story to the group, didn't you?"

Gilbert sighed, "Ludwig and I sort of rewrote our pasts to make it more suitable for the group. You know, if we had told everyone what our past was truly like, none of you would have let us lead." Gilbert shrugged his shoulders, "you can get mad at us now, but it won't do you very much good considering where we ar right now."

"I'm not mad," Matthew said, "I understand."

Gilbert huffed, his breath stirring the hairs on top of Matthew's head and causing a shiver to work its way down his spine. "You're very agreeable, Matthew, I'm lucky I ended up paired with you."

"Hmm, I'm lucky too," Matthew whispered, "now tell me the rest of your story. I want to hear it now."

"Like I said, I was a very happy child in a very happy home. My mother and father cherished me, and I had everything I wanted. It was great; right up until Ludwig was born." Gilbert sighed, "don't get me wrong though, I loved my brother, and I still love him very much now, but it could easily be said that he – and my love – was the reason for the collapse of our family. You can love something too much, Mattie, I learned that the hard way."

A knock was heard on the front entrance to the food court, but it turned out to just be one of the infected stumbling around aimlessly.

"Ludwig wasn't planned, at all. I still remember how upset my father got when my mother told him she was pregnant again. 'We can't take care of another child, Gilbert is getting bigger and he's going to need even more support, you need to get rid of it,' that was what my father told her. And of course, even the mention of abortion 20-odd years ago was considered a sin. My mother cried, and she yelled. My father and her fought and fought, until one day he struck her." Gilbert physically shivered, "my father had never touched my mother like that before, and he hadn't even grabbed her when he'd been angry. And here I was, sitting at the kitchen table, watching as my father beat my 8 months pregnant mother over the back with a chair leg. I was just old enough so that I would remember it forever."

Matthew wanted to say something to Gilbert, maybe comfort him, but he knew that it would be pointless. The story Gilbert was telling him had happened a long time ago, comforting him about it would be virtually pointless, and would probably only prove to make him feel worse about it. Matthew stayed quiet, and waited for Gilbert to continue. He had asked to hear the story, after all.

"Mother went into labour from the sheer blunt force of the chair leg against her back; father drove her to the hospital and left me home all alone. I was only five years old, scared, left to think that my mother was alone and dying, or that father was hurting her again. Then father came home, without mother, and I was terrified. I was sure that she was dead. Even as he began hitting me, kicking me and yelling at me, telling me that I was 'worthless' and that everything was my fault, I could only think about my mother and my unborn brother or sister. That's a child for you."

Gilbert moved to stretch, and then settled back into his position against the wall. He didn't seem disturbed or particularly upset about his story; he spoke about it as if it were something completely normal. And, in a way, his story was truly normal in his own stunted view. He didn't know what it was like to have a warm and normal home before his father started beating on he and his mother like a savage beast. That's all he knew, that was how he was raised.

"I went to sleep that night, covered in my own blood, and to add insult to injury I had even soiled myself. However, when I woke up, everything the night before had been forgotten because my mother was sitting on the corner of my bed, with Ludwig in her arms." Gilbert laughed, "he was so cute, so unlike that big hulking muscle-monster he is now. I was so happy; I was instantly attached to my little brother, just like that. I knew that I would do anything to keep him out of harm's way, and that meant keeping him away from my father."

Matthew felt Gilbert's hand cease on top of his head. However, just as Matthew thought he had fallen asleep, Gilbert's hand began moving again, almost unconsciously.

"Sorry," Gilbert said, "I'm trying to pretty up the ending as much as possible."

"Don't pretty it up," Matthew said seriously, "I want to know what happened."

"Fine then. Twelve years later, I was outside playing with my little brother, I was seventeen years old but I didn't have many friends because of my duties at home. My father would train me relentlessly, something in him snapped and instead of wanting me to become the perfect doctor; he wanted me to become the perfect soldier. 'Becoming a doctor is too expensive, and you're not even smart enough, so instead of using your brain you're going to use your strength, the only good thing you have going for you,' that's what my father would say to me. At only seventeen years old I was already gaining muscle tone, can you believe that? A seventeen year old shouldn't have muscle tone on such a level, that's just wrong. But, that's what was happening to me, it was already getting to the point where I would barely go to school anymore because my father wanted to train me." Gilbert sighed, "I was actually only a few years off from being enrolled in the military."

"What about Ludwig?" Matthew asked.

"Father wouldn't get on him too much," Gilbert said. "Occasionally he would force Ludwig to join us, but not too much. Which, all things considered, even a little bit of our training was hard on Ludwig; not even an enlisted soldier should undergo that kind of harsh training. Being beaten over the back with a broom handle while you do push-ups isn't exactly my idea of humane training methods."

"How did you end up here then, Gilbert? Did you enlist, or did you somehow get away from your father?"

"Well, on that perfectly normal day where Ludwig and I were playing outside, the one that I was telling you about? My mother shot my father, right in the head. He dropped like a fly, just like that; my father was cold and dead. It turned out my mother couldn't take it anymore and she snapped." Gilbert shook his head, "I'm happy that she did it, but another side of me is sad that she did it. This other side was partly because I had a sick attachment to my father – still do – and partly because she was thrown into jail because of it. Ludwig and I were tossed out on our asses, just like that. I had just turned eighteen and the both of us were forced to go it alone. Adoption wasn't a thing that happened in our villages, and orphanages were stuffed. Not to mention I was already too old to be put into an orphanage, and I wouldn't have been able to let Ludwig go anywhere without me. My mother wouldn't have wanted that, anyway."

Gilbert grew quiet again as he tried to work out what he was going to say next. Matthew, growing tired, was determined to stay up long enough to hear the rest of Gilbert's story. It was sad, but at the same time, it was a dose of reality. He needed that now more than ever.

"My mother was on the stand, looking down at her two sons with the most heartbroken look on her face I could ever imagine. I couldn't even face her; I just kept looking down at my hands. I wanted to cry so much, but I couldn't, because Ludwig was sitting next to me. The judge explained the orphanage situation, and then the foster home situation and my mom looked like she would fall apart. 'If I would have known I never would have done it,' that's what she said to the judge. She hadn't directly confessed before, but she had then. I stood up then, and promised my mother that I could take care of Ludwig, that I could support him. With that, my mother was ruled guilty and sentenced to life in prison. We stayed at the house for a little while, my father's bank account and my mother's back account together was enough to keep us going for a few months, but the problem was, it would eventually run out and I had no work experience or proper education under my belt. Sure, I was strong and well built, but what the hell does that get you, am I right? I couldn't exactly enlist because that would leave Ludwig all alone, and you don't make much as a soldier. The most you get out of that is a few missing limbs and years of psychological pain. "

"What did you do?" Matthew asked.

"Ludwig needed to go to school, the house needed to be paid, and I wanted to keep a fund open to give Ludwig the chance to go to school. There's only one type of job in this world where you can earn hundreds of dollars in one night with no education or training." Gilbert grew quiet for a moment.

Matthew was quiet, he knew exactly what Gilbert was going to say but part of him couldn't believe it. Gilbert didn't seem to have that kind of character. But, Matthew had learned over the years not to judge a book by its cover. Under normal circumstances Matthew might have been disturbed, but he understood why Gilbert had turned to what he had. What he wanted to know was what kind of 'happy ending' Gilbert was talking about. He couldn't see anything good about Gilbert's story, but of course, Gilbert probably saw happy in a different light than him.

"We moved to Berlin after I found a good escort company," Gilbert laughed. "When I got there, I finally realized that all the training my father had put me through went to good use, just not in the way he wanted or expected. Women want a ripped man, that's that. The only requirement of me was that I wear coloured contacts, blue ones preferably, that hid my eyes. Women could get past my pale skin, but my eyes were another story. I was one of the top choices among male escorts in Berlin, but it wasn't a point of pride for me, it was just something I wanted so I could support Ludwig. The more people the better. I had even accepted to spend the night with some men, that was how desperate I was to give Ludwig a good life." Gilbert stopped the petting motion, "I know that probably disturbs you, but it's what I felt I needed to do - it's what I needed to do."

"I understand," Matthew said, then grew quiet, "but I don't understand the 'happy' part."

Gilbert laughed, "I guess that probably doesn't look so good to you, but my idea of happy was seeing Ludwig happy. He went to one of the best schools in Berlin, was top of his class, and despite his quiet demeanour had very many friends. He was living the life, and in a way, so was I. Some of my escapades were a little undignified, but when I made my money, I could pretty much do whatever I wanted. The best part about it all, though, was that Ludwig was so damn proud of me. He didn't know what I was really doing, he just thought I was going to night school, a police officer, I had told him."

"That's really sad, Gilbert…" Matthew didn't know what to say. He'd never really met someone with a situation quite as bad as Gilbert's.

"Nah, it's fine," Gilbert said with a laugh, "I'm sure Ludwig had an idea of what I was truly doing as he got older. No one goes to school and then somehow comes back with a wad of cash. That's not how school works, anyone would start catching on eventually."

"I guess," Matthew said.

"Then, online, I met Elizaveta," Matthew felt Gilbert smile, "she was beautiful, and so funny, it was almost shocking to meet a girl as foul mouthed as me. I think I fell in love with her instantly, and see, that's the problem with me, Mattie. I love something, and I end up loving it too strongly and hurting everyone involved in the end, including myself. Ludwig was already into his schooling, an incredibly smart man, and on his break I told him what I was actually doing to make money. However, at that point I had stopped almost completely, I would only go with the occasional suitor every now and then - some of my more trusted regulars. He wasn't happy, but I told him that I did it for him. That kind of made it worse."

Gilbert let out an awkward laugh, "now that I think about it, I realize he was madder at himself than at me, and that's not what I wanted. I made him feel like it was his fault that I got into such a shady lifestyle. That's probably the only reason why he agreed to come down to America with me to meet Elizaveta. He felt guilty, and he realized that if I was vying for someone, I would probably stop working with the escort service. So, he came down with me, saying that he had always wanted to visit the North-American continent. We started out with Canada, actually, British Columbia to be exact. There were some things Ludwig wanted to see, and he very much enjoyed his time there. Then, after that, we came here to meet Elizaveta. We stayed at a hotel, shopped around a little – checked out the German community, then Ludwig stayed at the bar we had went to in the afternoon and I went to meet Elizaveta, then the apocalypse happened."

Matthew was quiet, "I don't really think that story would have swayed anyone's judgement, but I understand why you didn't want to give the real story." Matthew felt his eyelids getting heavy.

"Hmm," Gilbert said, "you're surprisingly understanding, Mattie."

Matthew felt the corners of his mouth lift at the nickname Gilbert had coined, not bothering to protest to it. "I try," he answered, slowly lolling into sleep.

Gilbert himself was awake for another hour, listening to the sound of the wind whistling outside and the sound of the infected bustling around the food court. Matthew and he would be safe for another day, but even that was hard to determine. They were trapped, and if they wanted to get out, they needed to take a chance.

When they woke up the next morning, they would need to gather all of the food they could, then run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my God, it's 2 in the morning and I have school tomorrow! I just really wanted to get this chapter out for you guys and I was sure that I had the time, but editing ended up taking WAY longer than I expected.
> 
> Welp, I really hope you all enjoyed this chapter - I hope you guys don't riot about Francis (I didn't want to kill him off, trust me, but it had to be done! I told you voting PruCan would change some of the developments, and this was one of the things that changed.)
> 
> Thanks guys! I love you all!


	21. Baby

"Stop," Mathias nearly shouted from the darkness, startling the group to a halt.

"What is it this time?" Lukas asked, irritated. Mathias had already interrupted the group numerous times for even the slightest of noises. Whether he heard glass tinkling or shoes shuffling, he would stop the group's progress. The group understood that he was only looking out for their well-being, but trying too hard could become a danger to them in the end.

"Really," Mathias said in a hushed voice, "there's something wrong."

The group grew quiet and waited for the familiar sound of the infected approaching, their footsteps jilted and slow compared to that of a normal human; but there was no sound of feet shuffling or even glass tinkling. It was completely dead silent in the mall, the only thing that could be heard was their steady breathing.

"Mathias," Lukas said, still irritated, "this is really becoming a nuisance."

Tino wanted to stick up for Mathias, say that his intentions were only good, but Tino understood where Lukas was coming from. If Mathias kept it up, his good intentions would put them all in danger. They needed to be quiet, and they needed to move quickly because darkness was almost upon them. The halls were already almost impossible to navigate with the broken shards of glass littering the floor and the various items from within each shop scattered around in large heaps. Tino had already tripped and fell to his knees a few times.

Only the outlines of certain objects were visible at this point.

"Should we leave, or-" Mathias started, closing in on Tino's ear so he could ask him the question without angering Lukas.

"There's still something we need here, but we can leave right after," Tino said, "I don't want to be stuck in here when it gets dark."

"We also can't move around when it gets dark," Mathias said seriously. "Lukas and I have been hiding away in here for a few days now, and if we find a place with windows that aren't broken – a deli, preferably, so that they can't smell us – then we could hold out for the night and have the light to guide us in the morning."

"I don't know about that," Tino said.

"What do you need here, anyway?" Mathias asked, eyebrows furrowed. He was an incredibly expressive man with a big heart, but he could also easily get on someone's nerves; his enthusiasm would become too much to handle for even the most patient of people.

Tino was one of those people.

"We need more baby formula," Tino said simply, trying his best not to garner any more questions from Mathias. "There's always a chance that the group that was assigned to it won't come back, so it would be better for the ones that have the child to get it, don't you think?"

"I don't really think so," Mathias said. "If there as reliable as what you claim they are, then there's nothing to worry about. Let's just go, I'm eager to get the hell out of this place already. Screw staying the night, if we leave now we'll still have a little bit of light to get us out of here."

"He said he wants to get baby formula, so we're going to get baby formula," Berwald said, finally coming to Tino's defence.

"Jeez, alright," Mathias said, backing away from Tino and Berwald. It was saying something that he was willingly walking over to Lukas's side. Usually he would cringe away in fear of upsetting him.

However, it wasn't as if Lukas getting angry at Mathias wasn't well deserved. Tino knew that Mathias' heart was always in the right place, but just because his heart was in the right place didn't mean that he always did the right thing.

"There it is," Berwald said, he was the first to spot the dairy at the far end of the catwalk.

"Good," Mathias said, "I was afraid that we were going to be stuck in here forever…"

"If you don't like it you can just leave us," Lukas said with a shrug, "it's your life, and it's your choice to make, I'm not going to stop you."

"You're really cruel, you know that, Lu?"

"Shh," Lukas said as he raised his right index finger to his lips, cutting Mathias off completely. The icing on the cake for Mathias's annoyance, really; Lukas was one of the only people in the world capable of annoying Mathias.

Tino was smiling as they approached the dairy. Even though it's lights were dimmed and the inside looked more than destroyed, he could see the unscathed cans of baby formula lying down at the end of the dairy. They had lucked out.

However, just as Tino started walking swiftly toward the closed glass doors, a voice rang through the air, causing all of them, even Peter, to jump out of their skin.

"Stop, right there," the voice proclaimed, growing closer as it did so. It was harsh voice, brutal and weather worn, it was the sign of someone who had been through many hardships in their life.

That couldn't spell anything good for them.

The footsteps approached and all of them stood their ground firmly. If it had just been Peter and Berwald alone, they probably would have chosen flight over fight. But, they had Mathias and Lukas who were both armed, and both trained with guns to help them out if anything went wrong. They really needed the baby formula inside the dairy, so the flight option would only be unlocked if something very bad happened.

That was an all too possible reality.

Mathias and Lukas already had their guns positioned at chest level as the person grew closer to them. As he stepped closer they could all hear his erratic and wild breathing. It was clear that he had been running very fast, and they hoped that he had been running toward them, and not running away from something. Something like one of the infected.

His breathing became so close - so loud - that they could almost see his breath swimming through the chilled mall air. But, despite this, they couldn't quite see him through the darkness. The only thing they could make out was the fact that there was not just one set of footsteps approaching them, but two. He had someone else with him.

"We have just as much of a right to be here as you," Mathias started, shaking the gun in his hand a little to cause it to rattle. He wanted the people approaching them to know that they were armed, and not willing to stand down to them. "We have just as much of a right to be here as you, as well we have just as much of a right to defend ourselves."

"You have just as much right to this place as I do?" The voice questioned, "what fool told you that? Official law may be broken, but my law isn't. This mall belongs to me, and me only."

Tino watched from behind Berwald as Mathias gritted his teeth hard enough to be heard from a number of feet behind him.

The feet were getting closer and closer, to the point where they could make out two silhouettes, one much smaller than the other.

"We'll shoot," Mathias shouted, "don't you dare doubt us!"

The man laughed, "you won't shoot."

The man walked out from the darkness. He was a short yet sturdily built man with blonde hair and cropped bangs, his posture spoke of defiance and outspokenness. The Scandinavian cousins were outspoken enough, but this man was from somewhere else; somewhere with even less tolerance than the Nordic countries. However, it wasn't the gun toting blonde man that was a cause for concern for the group. It was the little girl that stood by his side that caused everyone to reconsider shooting.

Had she not been there, they would have opened fire on the man. There was no doubt about that.

"You won't shoot me because you wouldn't dare shoot a little girl," the man said, as if reading all of their minds. "And if you did shoot her, the rest of my group would hunt you down one by one until you were destroyed. I would be your greatest concern, however."

Lukas put his gun down first, keeping it firmly beside his thighs but not aimed at the man and the young girl. "What do you want with us? We weren't bothering anyone, we're on our way out."

"I'm afraid you were bothering the lot of us," the man said with a snide frown, "you were stealing our resources. That is an unforgivable act in this kind of situation."

"So what will you do about it?" Mathias asked, testing the waters.

"I'll take you all with me, and you will face our leader." He said simply, "kind of like our own little jury trial."

"I don't think so," Mathias said, "and I highly doubt you would force us, considering we have a child of our own with us."

"I'm aware of that," the man said with a shrug. "I can still be forceful without harming a child, which is no problem of mine."

"Then we can be forceful as well," Lukas said, raising the gun back to chest level, positioned directly at the man's head. Lukas was a good shot, he could do it if he wanted.

"Shoot me if you wish, or even my sister, but the others will come for you. The others have already come for the rest of your group, so what point would there be in shooting me down and escaping? Not to mention if you shot me you would leave little Lilly here in danger. But, beside that, you have no one to escape with, and the keys have been taken from your vehicles along with all essential interior parts. We have the young Mediterranean man and the Asian man with us, along with the foul-mouthed Englishmen. The others are being hunted as w-"

"Stop," Tino shouted, raising both of his hands and slinging the gun off of his shoulder, pointing it at the man, "stop, because I'll shoot."

"There he is," the man said as he glanced around Mathias' tensed form, "the one who has the child all the time."

"Tino," Berwald started, reaching out to grab Tino by the shoulder to stop him from leaving his position behind him.

"How do you know so much about us?" Tino asked, "are there cameras?"

"No," the man said, "we have been watching you - and rest of your group - since the first half of the group arrived at the hotel. Were we ever surprised when they brought back another group. It was so interesting watching all of you interact; you had so much doubt in each other… As you all started fighting, we knew we needed to do something to coerce all of you out of there. We gave a little push, and surprisingly it made you stronger, which wasn't exactly what we were looking to do, but no matter."

"Why would you do something like that?" Tino asked, thinking back to that horrible moment when they had been driven out of the hotel and almost slaughtered in the process by the infected. They were lucky they had Gilbert and Ludwig with them, or else they would have been – no doubt – killed by the infected and simultaneously turned into one of them.

"At first it was because we wanted more help here, but we quickly realized that having more people around would be more of a drain on our meager resources. And, as your loud-mouthed German friend with the snowy hair said, 'a few people won't help against a large group of the infected.' So, better to conserve our resources, watch the infected closely, and keep the mall to ourselves."

"That doesn't explain why you would lead us here in the first place. If you wanted to conserve your resources so bad, you could have simply set a large group of the infected outside of the store's entrance. Wouldn't that have been a better idea than sending them after us in the hot…" Tino stopped, finally coming to a realization. The whole point of sending the infected after them in the hotel wasn't to drive them toward the mall, but to kill them off. The man before them was lying to cover up his failure in getting rid of them all, at least, that was how it looked to both Tino and Berwald.

"What?" The man asked, oblivious as to why Tino had suddenly stopped talking. But, he soon caught up to Tino's line of thinking and again, tried to cover his tracks; it was all for naught in Tino's eyes.

"I'm not that petty," the man said, "we simply wanted the hotel for ourselves, our plan wasn't really to kill you; just to drive you out. However, if some of you died in the process of the evacuation we didn't really care. You all would have been just another casualty in this war on humans."

"You could have joined us, the rest of the group would have been willing to let you join," Tino said, hoping to calm the situation before it started getting too intense to handle. Now that he understood the man's intent, his goal was to try and make him reconsider. He doubted it would work, but there was nothing wrong with trying to change his mind.

"Again, the resource situation, and firstly, no, you're group wouldn't have." The man said, "you remember me telling you that we kept watch of you guys for weeks? We did, and when I mean watch, we watched to the point of hearing each of your individual chats. We know more about all of you than you guys know about each other, right down to bathroom – and bed – detail. We heard what the first group of survivors said about you, and the only reason they took you in was because of the car crash that you guys got into. They felt bad, and they didn't want to leave you stranded, so they had no choice."

The man laughed at Tino like he was a petty child, "you seem to forget that the original group had the perfect set of contributors to the team, they could have made it with no problem and they could have done so while using a small amount of resources per person. They had a nurse – which they saved by their selves – they had two strong arms that are incredibly quick on their feet and loyal minded, they had an electronics major, they had a girl, and they even had a priest. They didn't need you guys; you had nothing to contribute to the group."

"Shut up," Lukas said. "I don't know what you're talking about but I can tell it's not something good. So shut up, or so help me I'll drive a bullet into your empty skull."

"Fine, I've said what was needed to be said," he shrugged, "so let's make introductions, hum?"

The group gritted their teeth but didn't dare speak out against the man anymore - Tino and Berwald, mostly in fear that he would release too much information on them personally. He could destroy their entire group if he opened his mouth and started blathering things to them. If the rest of the group knew of their doubts, knew of the horrible things Tino had said about the German brothers – Gilbert in particular – they could be out-casted, especially considering the German brothers were essentially running their group.

But if what the blonde man was saying about kidnapping the groups individually was true, then being out-casted may be the least of their problems. Escaping the mall would be their main priority, and from what Tino was seeing, their case for escaping safely wasn't looking very strong.

"Let me start then, because everyone's being antisocial," the man said, finally lowering his gun to ground level. "My name is Vash, and this little girl beside me is Lilly, my little sister. Along with that, I'd like to remind you that if any harm befalls her, twice the amount of harm will befall you."

The little girl at his side remained completely quiet, even having the decency to look at the ground in shame at her older brother's harsh words. It clearly wasn't a world for a little girl to be living in.

"I'd like to start with the other two that I haven't had the pleasure of listening in on yet," his eyebrows furrowed deeply, "we've watched you from the post sneaking around the store, but just two of you weren't much of a concern before. Hell, if you hadn't banded together with these three, we probably wouldn't have even bothered you and let you go on your way without any problems. But, now you're becoming a problem, especially considering you're related to the little blonde with the Englishman's brother attached at the hip. So, names, occupation, rank? Whatever it is you two are involved with, because I like knowing what I'm getting myself into."

"We work at the paper mills in Sweden," Mathias said, eyeing Lukas out of the corner of his eye. We come from different countries respectively, but that's only because our parents and step-parents enjoyed the change in scenery. I am Mathias, and the man beside me is my cousin, Lukas."

"Change in scenery? You're on the Scandinavian Peninsula, everything is the same everywhere. Plaster white faces and plaster white hair, and a touch of incestuous bloodlines, that's all you have. And don't you dare lie to me about the paper mill story; I know you guys were into something other than that. Even though I didn't hear your conversations, I saw the way you worked with guns and understood them; no paper mill worker could pull that off without some kind of formal training."

Mathias tightened his fists, regretting trying to show off his skills to his cousin. If he had known they were being watched, and that they were going to get into this situation, he would have held off. "We were cops," Mathias said, biting the inside of his cheeks.

"That's what I thought," Vash said, before looking in Berwald, Peter and Tino's direction. "Now you two, I know, so no proper introductions are in order. Tino, you're still a young boy, not even accepted into university yet. And Berwald, well, your factory story is actually true."

Vash finally became quiet. He didn't look hostile, exactly, but he didn't look friendly either. There was one thing they all knew, however, and that was the fact that they didn't want to go with him or get him angry.

The little girl standing beside him reached one of her slender arms up and tugged and the hem of his shirt. She looked forlorn, almost absent; there was no light in her aquamarine eyes. Vash leaned in to her beckoning arms so she could whisper into his ear, and whatever she whispered caused Vash's eyebrows to shoot up to his hairline in surprise.

Vash stood back up and regarded Tino with an unsettling look.

"What?" Tino asked, unconsciously backing away from the man's penetrating stare.

"She asked me if you were holding a real baby," Vash said with a shrug.

"And?" Mathias asked as the air around them became increasingly heavy. There was something wrong with the way Vash was addressing the situation. He was planning something, and it wasn't anything good.

"She said to me that she misses her baby doll, and that she would like to have a real baby to play with," Vash said with an all too serious and considering look on his face.

"Children always think like that," Tino said, feeling his stomach stir uncomfortably under Vash and his younger sister's gaze. He unconsciously held Peter closer to his chest, shielding him from both Lily and Vash's wandering eyes. There was something wrong with the girl in particular, something completely off about her expression, or lack thereof.

"Look at you," Vash said with a snide grin, "you're young, you've been run out of your home, and you know nothing about taking care of a child. Let's also mention the fact that you don't have the supplies to take care of one. The child would be better off with us."

"We've been run out of our home, our safe home, because of something you admitted to doing. We would have been perfectly fine if you'd stayed away. And as for the supplies, what are you talking about? Those supplies we don't have are right behind you. Peter wouldn't be better off with you, he belongs with us. His brother is part of our group, and trust me, he wouldn't respond well to being taken away from his big brother."

"Peter, so that's the little one's name," Vash said with a smile.

The name falling from the other man's lips left a bitter taste in Tino's mouth and a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach. The idea that Peter could be in imminent danger and he could do nothing about it terrified him even more than the thought of he himself being put in danger. He wouldn't let anyone else touch Peter, it was hard enough letting Berwald or Arthur touch him.

"You don't see what's wrong with him?" Vash asked the group, regarding them with a shocked expression. "He's attached, possessive, what he has for this baby is extremely unhealthy, and he knows it."

"That doesn't mean you could do any better," Mathias said. "If he's possessive, so what? That means he'd do anything to protect the child. In my eyes, that's a good thing."

Vash laughed, "I've taken care of my little sister just fine, now haven't I, Lilly?"

The little girl nodded her head and smiled up at her brother, but still, her eyes were blank and vacant. The smile was out of place on her cold and normally expressionless face.

Something was wrong.

Tino grabbed Berwald's shirt sleeve and yanked, "we need to go." Tino was being urgent. Something bad was about to happen, and Tino believed they could go on without the formula. There was another group working on it, and if they hadn't run into the same problems as them then they were fine.

Berwald nodded his head and raised his gun to chest level so quickly Tino almost fell backwards. He had expected Berwald to react, but he hadn't expected him to open fire without a second thought.

Berwald shot at Vash and Lily, but successfully avoided shooting them – he hadn't wanted to do that in the first place. Berwald had done exactly what he wanted; he took them by surprise and caused them to duck for cover behind the walls of the dairy. It would give them the time they needed to run away and hide.

"Let's go," Tino shouted at Lukas and Mathias who were still stunned, staring at the bullet holes Berwald has created in the floor and the walls.

Both men complied without another word and followed close behind Tino and Berwald. Mathias turned around and shot at the wall Vash and Lily were hiding behind for good measure. He didn't want them following them.

It was true that Vash knew where the security cameras were, and he could easily follow them, but that would require Vash to go back to wherever the cameras were to find out where they were hiding. If they went fast enough, they could avoid being caught altogether.

† -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- †

When they finally made it to the first floor of the mall, night had completely fallen. Corridors were painted black, floors were dim and grimy, and their steps became more and more cautious as they tried to avoid making unnecessary noise.

"We're almost there," Berwald said to Tino reassuringly, keeping his hand firmly on his shoulder so he wouldn't lose him in the dark. Tino had become silent, more silent than he normally was around him, and Berwald knew that he wouldn't be talking any time soon. Vash's words had upset him, which was made clear by the way the colour had drained from his already pale face.

Just in front of them were the shattered glass entrance doors to the mall, standing just as they had when they had last seen them.

"Oh man, I thought I was never going to see these again," Mathias said with a sigh. "So where's your group?"

"They should be outside in the cars," Tino said quietly, thinking back to what Vash had said about stealing the keys and the car parts.

He tried not to dwell on it, thinking that everyone would at least be able to hide inside the cars as they waited for the rest of the group. The only thing Tino was truly worried about was Heracles, Kiku and Arthur. Vash had said they were holding them captive, and that they were already hunting for the rest of the survivors.

Tino hoped - prayed - that Vash was saying that just to make them worry.

Mathias and Lukas were far ahead of Tino and Berwald, but they were shouting back nonetheless. There was no sign of the infected anywhere, and they were almost home-free. There was no point in keeping their voices lowered.

At least, that was what they thought.

"Where did you guys get the great big black vans?" Lukas asked from outside of the mall.

Tino and Berwald both looked at each other in fright, but before they could even open their mouths and tell Lukas and Mathias to get away, shots were fired. Mathias was the only one screaming, but it was enough to cause Berwald and Tino to go into a panic. Whoever was driving those black vans, and whoever had shot, stopped in enough time to realize that Lukas and Mathias were not – in fact – part of the infected, even though they looked very much like they were.

"Get down," a voice shouted, "and the rest of you, come out of there!"

Tino and Berwald slowly advanced to the shattered glass, closing their eyes to the glare coming from the vans parked out front. The light was ultraviolet, almost blinding them when they stepped out directly in front of the panels. Whoever these people were, they were prepared to fight the infected with everything they had.

The voice shouted another order at them, "turn."

Mathias was still lying on the ground with both of his hands pressed to his gut, and Lukas was by his side trying to calm him down. The people yelling at them didn't seem to be interested in Lukas or Mathias.

"I said turn!"

Berwald and Tino turned around, giving the men who they couldn't see through the light their backs. There was no point in arguing with them or trying to defy them, it would only get them shot like Mathias.

"He has a baby," Tino could hear from behind him.

There were more inaudible words coming from the people behind them, their heavy accents making it almost impossible to discern what they were saying to each other.

"The little blonde one," one man shouted, "come forward."

Tino's heart stopped dead in his chest. It was definitely him they were talking to, and it was definitely Peter that had interested them so much. He couldn't move his feet, and he didn't think Berwald would allow him to leave even if he wanted to. However, his legs started moving before he could stop himself.

Berwald's hand shot out and grabbed his shoulder, trying to push him back into the mall so he could run away, but before Berwald could do anything the men beside the vans shot him without a second's hesitation.

The wound wasn't fatal, Tino could see that just by the blood leaking down Berwald's arm and the bullet hole in his shoulder, but that didn't make him any less upset. These people were animals, they didn't care that they were living, uninfected human beings. They wanted something from them, something that wasn't clear yet. But, what was clear was that they wouldn't hesitate to kill them if they defied their orders. So Tino turned, facing the lights head on once again, and began walking toward the men.

As he grew closer, he could finally start making them out through the light.

"Tino, stop," Mathias shouted, voice still working despite the bullet lodged in his stomach. Even though he was lying down, bleeding to death on the pavement, he still had someone else's safety on his mind.

Tino didn't stop though, or rather; he couldn't stop even if he wanted to.

Each step he took echoed through the air despite the sound of the van's engines roaring into the night. Every breath he took rustled the leaves on the trees. Every beat of his heart was strong enough to crack each individual rib in his chest.

He couldn't stop himself.

Tino came to a stop in front of the two men that had been shooting at them. What he didn't expect was to see two women standing beside them, equally as armed as they were.

Tino couldn't make out the people in the car, but there were more.

"It is a baby," one of the women said. She had long blonde hair that touched her hips, and straight and stern features to go along with it. She was dressed up in traditional military uniform just like the men, but it had lost all semblance of what it had been. They were all spattered with blood and covered in mud – these people had clearly been through much.

"It's cute," the other blonde woman said, her hair short and her body top-heavy. "Do you think this could be the one, Brother?"

"I don't know," the man said, "but let's not take a chance by letting them get away."

The blonde women with the long blonde hair regarded Tino with a cold expression, icy enough to cut through him like butter. "Hand him over to us," she said calmly, "if you listen, we won't kill you or your friends."

Tino's heart bumped up into his throat. He mumbled something out to her, it was an answer, but it was so quiet he wasn't even sure of what he had said to her.

"What did you just say?" She asked, her hackles rising and her eyes smouldering.

"I said never," Tino screamed up at her, his eyes indignant and his stance firm. "You'll have to kill me first."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'm almost done high school, how exciting is that? I won't have to suffer through group projects or deal with my horrible classmates any longer!
> 
> Tino, Berwald, Mathias and Lukas got to meet up with two new sets of somewhat villainy/non-villainy villains. (You're probably saying that doesn't make sense, but trust me, in a few chapters it WILL make sense to you guys).
> 
> Sorry about the slow updates, but my days have just been getting busier and busier. Don't worry though, as soon as I grab my diploma in three weeks I'll be ready to write more! Once summer hits I'll be updating every week – maybe more.
> 
> As always thank you guys so much for your support!


	22. Drop

When the dim, flickering glow from the lighter filled the room and painted the pale walls and grimy floors, Arthur wanted to double over and scream at what he saw. Arthur and Alfred had both seen equal amounts of horrifying things since the beginning of the outbreak; they had seen people ripped apart, buildings crashing down, and little children being attacked and ravaged on the streets like prized pigs. However, they had both never seen or bore witness to one of their own being the target of one of the attacks. They had never seen one of their own being ripped apart, and lying cold and bloody on the floor.

Elizaveta lay on the ground with one of her hands pressed tight against her throat – blood was spilling through her tightly clenched fingers despite her efforts, seeping into her lovely white blouse and dying it pink in the process. Roderich himself was propped up on his knees, fussing over her and telling her that it was going to be alright; everything would be OK.

It was arguably even worse being an outsider-looking-in than being at the centre of it all.

One of the infected lay with its throat torn out beside Roderich, gasping and clawing at its own throat as if mocking Elizaveta's attempts to stop the bleeding. Under closer inspection of the infected, however, they came to realize that Roderich had clawed the infected's throat out with his own bare hands in the heat of the moment. He had probably done it in a blind rage when he had seen Elizaveta being attacked by the creature.

However, it clearly hadn't done any good as Elizaveta was already harmed beyond repair.

Arthur and Alfred couldn't believe their eyes when they scanned over the infected lying beside Roderich. The creatures had gotten much stronger since the outbreak, and yet Roderich had managed to fend it off – and kill it – with nothing but his bare hands as weapons. Added to that, one of Roderich's arms was broken.

Roderich had expressed true, blind rage.

Arthur immediately ran to the scene, offering his help to Roderich but only garnering a gruff dismissal from the man. He deserved it though; Arthur really deserved the treatment he was getting - and more - from Roderich. Roderich had been suffering, struggling to get used to their new way of life, and he had been nothing but indifferent and cruel to the man up until now. He had cursed at the man, fought with him, and called him down to his lowest because he himself had rage boiling under the surface that he needed to let out. Roderich had been nothing more than their conveniently placed punching bag. Beside that point, by the looks of Elizaveta's waning health, his help wouldn't change anything. He needed to leave Roderich alone with Elizaveta.

He needed to leave Roderich alone.

Arthur sat behind him in silence, bowing his head, partly because he wanted to give the two some semblance of privacy, and also because he didn't want to see Elizaveta die in front of his eyes. He didn't want to see one of his friends dying, that was the last thing he needed - and the fact that she was dying because of one of their own careless mistakes only added insult to injury.

"Come on, Liza, you're going to be OK," Roderich coaxed, trying to put pressure on her throat without suffocating her – the throat was a difficult place to treat properly.

Elizaveta couldn't respond to him as any noise she would try to make was drowned out by the blood filling her severely wounded throat, her vocal chords were almost completely severed from the infected's attack and were completely visible to the naked eye. However, instead of responding to him with words, she mustered all of her remaining energy and lifted her left arm, slowly entwining her fingers with one of the hands trying to soothe her bleeding throat.

It was her way of telling Roderich that it was no use trying to stop the inevitable.

Arthur had heard many desperate screams and cries in his life, but he'd never heard one quite like Roderich's before. It was a whimper, and a blood-curdling scream all rolled into one – it made Arthur's throat clench up and his chest physically tighten. Roderich was hunched over on his knees, grasping Elizaveta's hand like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. They both knew that she wouldn't be able to pull out of the wound on her throat. That was it, there was no way around it. A wound so deep, and in such a vital area, couldn't be treated with anything they had in their first aid kits. And, even if they had the greatest doctors in North America working on the wound, it wouldn't have ended in a success because of just how severe it was. Elizaveta looked up at him, pleading with him to release his hold on her gaping throat.

Arthur had seen many heartbreaking looks in his life, but nothing came close to the exchange he saw between Elizaveta and Roderich. He felt like he was intruding on something intimate just by looking at them.

Roderich, as always, was unable to argue or deny Elizaveta anything, so when she silently asked him to take his hand away from her weeping throat, he did it without question.

As soon as he had taken the hand away from her throat, a fresh track of blood made its way down her milky white skin and pooled around her collar bones. From where Arthur was standing, with the light barely registering, he could see her throat trying to work despite the injury it had sustained. He watched with Roderich and Alfred as her throat worked and worked until it stopped, just as suddenly as it had begun.

Elizaveta was gone, still looking at Roderich like he was the last thing she could have ever hoped to see.

Alfred stood beside Arthur, both of them wearing twin looks of shock and disgust. However, the disgust was not with the scene before them, they were disgusted that it was – in fact – their fault that this had happened to Elizaveta. If they hadn't started fighting with Roderich and hadn't hurt him, their circumstance may have changed; Elizaveta may not have died so cruelly. Even though Roderich had been in the wrong when he had started shouting at Lovino and Antonio, he didn't deserve to have his arm broken, and he certainly didn't deserve to see Elizaveta dying in front of him.

Arthur's hand shot out quickly, ready to grab Roderich's shoulder to tell him they needed to go, but he hesitated when he realized what kind of state Roderich was in. He had just seen the love of his life bleed out on the floor in front of him after having her throat ripped out by an infected monster, and he hadn't even gotten a proper goodbye from her. The only thing that they could do was share a glance, and that was it. Her life was ripped away from her as soon as it was given.

That was their world – their new cruel world – they were lucky if they even got to share a glance with the person they loved before they perished.

Alfred was the one who finally broke the invisible barrier, crashing through it and waking everyone up to the reality of the broken world around them. They didn't have time to mourn and cry for people they cared about, the only thing they could do was keep running - keep running and hope that they would eventually find salvation. "Roderich, Arthur, we need to go OK? I can hear some of them coming, and if we don't get out of this place right now were going to be food for those fucking things."

Arthur nodded his head and started toward the door quickly with Alfred, however the two of them stopped when they saw Roderich's stooped form – it was clear that he wasn't planning on getting up to leave with them. It didn't mean that they wouldn't try to get him to go with them, however.

"Come on, Roderich," Alfred whispered harshly, "they're closing in on us really fast, we need to get the hell out of here before they trap us in here."

Arthur nodded his head in agreement with Alfred, and made his own attempt at coaxing Roderich into coming with them.

He finally turned around to face the two of them, but they weren't going to get the response they wanted from him, that was clear by the determined look he had plastered on his face.

"I'm not just going to leave her here," Roderich said with a wild look in his eyes. "Do you really think I could leave her here just like this? Just what kind of monster do you take me for? Just what kind of monsters are you?"

"God damn it, Roderich, we need to get out of here, let's go!" Alfred shouted, completely disregarding the sound of the footsteps growing closer to them. They didn't have time to discuss past arguments, they needed to leave.

"No," Roderich shouted back, just as loud. "I'm not leaving her here all alone; I'm going to stay with her." Roderich laughed humourlessly in their direction, "and why do you care, anyway? Weren't you the ones who just brutalized me to the point of my not being able to take care of myself anymore to make a stupid point? Just go, I'm staying here with her, it's where I belong. Besides, they'll be so focused on the both of us here that it will buy you some time to get out of here and back to the others."

"Roderi-" Alfred started, but was quickly cut off by Arthur's hand covering his mouth and nudging his ribs with his elbow.

"Let's just go, Al, we don't have any more time to spare."

Alfred scanned Arthur's face cautiously, as if he thought he would find the answer to all of his questions on Arthur's face, and when he seemed like he had found it, he nodded his head slowly. He understood. Roderich had made his mind up, and he wasn't going to change it on their account - they didn't deserve that much from him.

Both Alfred and Arthur turned at the same time and began running, fast, far away from Roderich and Elizaveta. They weren't running from the infected, so much as they were running from what had happened back in the outlet behind them. They didn't stop until their lungs felt like they were shrivelling up and falling apart inside their chests.

† -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- †

They finally came to a stop in the middle of the floor where they were surrounded by bannisters and a considerable drop to the first floor; they were standing directly under the dying light of the skylight, indicating that they had no more time to spare. Night was close to falling, and if they didn't hurry they wouldn't make it to the front of the store in time to avoid the approaching infected.

"We need to get to the first floor," Alfred started, turning to face Arthur from where he stood looking over the bannister.

Arthur seemed to be looking at something curiously.

"What is it," Alfred started, "are there any infected down on that level?"

"No," Arthur said, but he still sounded concerned, "none at all, but that's the problem. There's something that's bothering me about the fact that we haven't seen all that many in a long while."

"How could that possibly be bothering you? It's a damn good thing that there aren't any down there, because we're going to be down there in less than ten minutes." Alfred said, "now come on, let's get the hell away from this crazy fucking place before I fall apart on myself or go batshit insane."

"I don't think so," a voice said, shockingly close behind them.

As soon as the voice had sounded Alfred was ready to turn around and start a fight, but when he felt the cold steel of a gun's barrel pressing into the back of his head, his will to fight dropped tenfold. It wasn't one of their own, that was for sure.

Of all things, as if worrying about the infected attacking them wasn't enough of a problem, now they had to worry about other people causing them harm too. The world just got worse and worse as the days progressed with no decent end in sight.

"I'm going to have to ask the two of you to drop the weapons you're carrying," the man said, "because I'm on a really tight schedule right now, and I don't want to have to kill one of you."

Arthur and Alfred both gave each other a cautious look as they drew the guns out of the makeshift holsters on their hips and dropped them to the floor carelessly. It would be better just to obey the man for the time-being until they knew what his true purpose with them was. Maybe he was the one who "owned" the mall, and if that was truly the case, it would be better to make nice with him. Added to all that, with all the running they had done they didn't have any remaining energy to engage in another fight with someone.

However, from the man's apparent hostility toward the both of them, it was hard to determine if 'making nice' with him was truly worth their time and effort.

The man standing close behind them kicked Alfred hard enough in the ass to send him careening into the bannister on the overlook; he was stronger than the both of them, that had been made visible to them by the force behind the man's kick. If he could send someone like Alfred careening into something with such easy force, then he must have been considerably stronger than the both of them. "Take the knife out of your pants too, idiot. I don't want any funny business, especially from you." The man pointed the barrel of his gun at Alfred's face and made a show of pretending to pull the trigger, "you look like you're going to be a problem for us."

"Us?" Arthur thought nervously.

Alfred spit in the man's direction and slowly slid the knife out of the waistband of his pants, throwing it to the ground directly in front of the hooded man.

"That's right," the man said with a jerky nod. "Now, leave everything behind here, including your duffel bags and all of the stolen goods. You're coming with me whether you like it or not."

"What do you think you are, a cop?" Alfred asked petulantly from where he was still pressed up against the bannister. "If you think I'm going to follow you and leave all our hard work behind like it's nothing, then you are truly fucking insane. Do you know what it's like out there? Do you know what we went through before we got here?"

"I do," he said with a nod, and if his face had been visible then there most certainly would have been a smirk there.

"Wha-" Alfred started.

The man cut him off in enough time for Alfred to forget his train of thought, "there's a reason why I'm in here and not out there."

"Then you know why we're taking goods, because if we want to survive out there we'll need them. You don't need them because it seems to me that you're mostly safe from harm in here," Alfred said.

The man cocked his head, "so you're justifying stealing my goods in order to survive?" The man walked up to Alfred and got directly in his face, revealing dark skin and silky brown hair. "The whole world's crapped out, it's to each their own out there. Which means I have every damn right to stop you from stealing from this place, but hey, if you think you can force me and the rest of us to hand it over, be my guest. There is no law anymore. But if you think for one second that any of the people in this place will back down to a bunch of muscle-heads, a few college kids, a priest, and a fucking nurse then you're the crazy one in this place, not me. We won't stop until were dead."

Alfred cursed under his breath and looked away from the man, unable to hold eye contact with him any longer. However, he still managed to mumble a quick "likewise" under his breath. There was something off about the man, even though he looked like a completely normal person, you could just see that there was something wrong boiling under the surface, just waiting to let itself out. Added to everything else, he somehow knew about all of them.

That spelled trouble for everyone, not just them.

The man laughed at Alfred and turned his back to him, walking away with an air of nonchalance and indifference that shouldn't have existed anymore in their new world. It was that walk, and the implications of what the man had said to him, that had caused Alfred to react in a way that left him shocked in his own actions.

Alfred dove for the knife in front of him and lunged forward, prepared to sink the knife into the back of the man's head without question. However, just as he thought he was home free, the man turned around and grabbed him by the arm before he could deal any serious damage to him.

"I knew you were going to be trouble right from the moment I saw you," he said with a sneer as he backed Alfred closer and closer to the bannister, "and you see, I don't have any time on my hands to deal with trouble makers." Alfred let out a breathless gasp of air when his back collided hard with the bannister.

"Alfred," Arthur called out, running over and trying to pry the man's hands off of Alfred's shoulders. There was no point in trying to make nice with the man anymore, if they wanted to get out of the mall alive then they had to get rid of the man and warn the rest of the group about other possible threats - if they hadn't encountered them already.

The man let out a grunt of distaste when Arthur latched onto him and he used all of his force to knock Arthur away from him. He swung the butt of his gun out from between his arm and clipped Arthur under the jaw hard enough to cause his vision to swim and a black vignette to eat up the corners of his area of sight. He wasn't completely blacked out by the hit, but he also wasn't aware of his surroundings enough to react to anything going on. He might as well have been dead to the world in that moment.

The man got back to the task at hand as soon as he saw that Arthur would be incapacitated long enough to allow him to do what he had wanted to the moment he had seen Alfred's cocky face. He started lifting Alfred bodily off of the floor like a small child, all the while bringing him up until he was dangling over the three-floor drop.

Alfred was too weak to stop him from lifting him, as the man was far older and far more sturdy than he was. Alfred was also completely exhausted from running away from the infected, and Roderich and Elizaveta earlier, so there was no hope for him in stopping the man.

"I don't have the time," the man said as he lifted Alfred even higher over the drop, "for trouble makers like you."

He let go of Alfred without another word, not even bothering to watch over the edge as he fell with a loud shout and landed on the hard plaster tiles below them with an even louder crack.

The crack that Alfred's body made when it collided with the floor was satisfying enough for the man.

Satisfied with his work, the green-hooded man walked back over to where Arthur was still sitting - confused and bloodied - and stooped beside his dazed form.

"Your little friend is dead, can you hear that through that thick skull of yours?" the man emphasized this by tapping his knuckles on Arthur's head. "Now, without any more interruptions from your little friend, you're coming with me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I know the chapter was really late but it's hard getting back into the game, do you know what I mean? I've been so busy with school and studying that I haven't made any time to write until now.
> 
> So, I'm finally done school. It's such a weird feeling knowing that you're done, you're never going to be going back to high school ever again. 12 years of horrible school and you're finally done. Now the only thing left for me to do is accept my diploma and go to prom! (whichi'mnotlookingforwardto)
> 
> And then it's off to University! (woohoo?)
> 
> On another note, I wanted to tell you guys about this fucking awesome anime/manga called Shingeki no Kyojin, or Attack on Titan if you prefer. I couldn't wait for new episodes to air so I ended up reading the entire manga up to its current chapter (shame of me). But seriously, while you're waiting for next week's chapter, you should all check it out! It's really dark-themed, and the character development and plot is awesome (think the Walking Dead, but with giants.)
> 
> See you next week, guys!


	23. Break

"What was that?" Lovino asked, sitting straight up on his makeshift bed with a panic stricken look on his face. His hair was messy and his clothes rumpled, it was clear that he hadn't gotten enough sleep.

From all the noise going on throughout the night, no one had been able to get enough sleep.

Antonio was tempted to tell Lovino that nothing was wrong, and that he should just go back to sleep. However, Antonio knew that lying to Lovino would be pointless, and that he wouldn't be able to sleep no matter how hard he tried anyway.

"I don't know," Antonio said truthfully as he gazed through the plate glass window covering the front of the store, "but from what I can tell, it was one of our own screaming."

Lovino looked down and ran a hand through his dirty hair, letting out a long sigh.

"Was it bad?" Lovino asked.

"What do you mean?" Antonio asked, craning his neck to look under Lovino's hair so he could try to make out the expression on his face.

Lovino just turned away.

"The scream, did it sound like the person it belonged to was dying? And who did the voice belong to, if you could tell?" Lovino asked the question without any hesitation, but he still refused to meet eyes with Antonio.

Antonio was quiet for a moment, pondering how he would answer Lovino's question without getting his head bitten off by the wiry man who was constantly fired-up and ready to fight with him. Though it seemed Antonio was making things worse by just being silent, so he came out with something on the spot to avoid Lovino's wrath. "I'm really not that sure, Lovi, but from what I understand, yeah, that scream didn't mean anything good for the person it was coming from. And, as for who it was, I can't be sure. I can't pick out a voice through a scream."

Lovino sighed and leaned his head against the wall behind him and his head hit the wall with a dull thump, "well, judging by how things our running for our group, soon enough the only way we're going to be able to tell our voices apart is by our screams."

"Don't say that," Antonio said, "don't be so negative, you're a prie-"

"Yeah, yeah," Lovino said with an exaggerated eye roll, "but priests don't swear either, so at this point I don't think it really matters what I say – or do."

Antonio couldn't help the small chuckle that bubbled up in his throat every time he thought about Lovino, standing in front of the chalice and cursing his head off at the small children in the front who wouldn't be quiet. If Antonio had never met Lovino, he wouldn't have believed him if he had told him he was in seminary.

"What's so god damn funny this time?" Lovino asked, his eyebrows knitting together fiercely.

"Nothing, Lovi, I'm just tired, that's all. We're all tired."

"Well, you can't sleep now," Ludwig finally said from where he sitting, bathed in morning light, "we need to start meeting up with the others at the front."

"If there are any others at the front of the mall," Lovino said, "from what I heard last night, I have this funny feeling that there's not many people – if any – left alive."

"Lovi," Feliciano whimpered from where he was sitting next to Ludwig, eyes still heavy with sleep, "please don't say things like that."

"I'm sorry," Lovino said with a shrug, "but sometimes, you have to face the facts. We can't go into situations completely optimistic now, it'll only be our downfall."

Feliciano and Antonio both protested to this, but Ludwig was reluctantly nodding his head in agreement with Lovino's words.

"He's right," Ludwig said with a throaty sigh, "it's alright to be optimistic, but in these situations, we have to look at the worst outcome before we look at the best one. We just need to hope that the best situation will prevail over the worst one."

Feliciano and Antonio both nodded their heads, however, it didn't look like they were going to listen to what either Lovino or Ludwig were saying. Their personalities were the only things that remained intact during the outbreak, it seemed - they remained optimistic as ever. No matter how bleak the situation looked for them, they always found a way to look at the bright side of things.

Feliciano, who refused to accept his brother's death even though he knew it was inevitable, and Antonio who refused to accept defeat in the hospital even though their situation was almost impossible.

When Lovino thought back to these events, he decided that he didn't want to fight with his brother or Antonio, and if they wanted to be optimistic, it would be alright. Not everyone had to be a pessimist like him, no matter how much he wanted it to be that way.

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Arthur let out a muffled shout when he awoke to both Kiku and Heracles sitting down in front of him, they were both tied up to the table he was currently sitting on. His arms were bound, his legs were bound, and he had a gag in his mouth that made breathing a difficult task. He worked his tongue desperately around the fabric in his mouth so he could try to talk to them, but to no avail.

"Relax," Kiku said when he realized Arthur was beginning to panic, "we're alright, we're fine."

"That's not it!" Arthur was thinking desperately, "I was with Alfred, where's Alfred?"

For some reason, Neither Kiku or Heracles had a gag in their mouths like he did; just their hands and feet were tied to the legs of the table Arthur was sitting on, however, they bonds were tied so tight that the rope was digging into their flesh and creating nasty rashes. Arthur didn't remember anything before he had been tied up, sole for Elizaveta's death and Roderich's decision to stay behind with her. Then, after that, Arthur's mind was completely blank. It made his panic even worse, and made his stress level sky-rocket.

He knew something very bad had happened to him and Alfred when they had left Elizaveta and Roderich behind, and whatever it was, part of him didn't want to know anything about it.

If his own mind was holding the dam closed and not allowing the memories to flood into his brain, then clearly whatever had happened was extremely trauma inducing - even more so than the outbreak itself.

Arthur tried to forget about his missing memories and focused on his present predicament. He was tied up, and he needed to think of a way to save himself, Kiku, and Heracles before whoever had tied them up got back. The infected clearly weren't quite smart enough to tie three different people up and hold them hostage, so someone else had tied them up, someone human.

They already had it rough enough with the infected constantly on their tail; they certainly didn't need to start seeing other people meddling around in their business and trying to hurt them.

Wasn't the world terrible enough?

Arthur closed his eyes tight until they stung and watered as he desperately tried to remember what happened to him before he had gotten tied up. He knew he should have been thinking about getting out of the ropes, but he wanted get his memories back before whoever it was that had tied them up got back to finish what he had started with them.

"What happened?" Arthur finally asked after having no luck with searching through his memory, his voice was so muffled it sounded more like 'vhuf haffen'. But, despite this, Kiku and Heracles both understood what Arthur was trying to ask them.

"You don't remember what happened to you before all of this?" Heracles asked, trying to crane his neck so he could look up at Arthur's face behind him. He knew there had been a small gash on the side of Arthur's head when he had first seen him, he wondered if that may have been the cause of Arthur's apparent memory loss. Arthur wouldn't be asking him what happened if he had remembered being caught.

Arthur shook his head from side-to-side impatiently.

"I think you – or rather the man that kidnapped you - hit your head. I'm assuming it's because of your concussion that you can't remember anything."

Arthur tried to let out a sigh, but letting out a huge breath of air only proved to make it harder for him to breath around the gag in his mouth. He wanted to tell Heracles to get on with it, and that he already knew about the concussion because of his cloudy vision.

"That's inconvenient," Kiku said.

Heracles nodded his head, but continued speaking to the frustrated Arthur, trying to help him get his memories back before Sadiq came back to 'check-up' on them. He hoped that whatever Arthur remembered would somehow help them out with their situation. "Do you remember what happened before Sadiq got to you?"

Arthur nodded his head - taking mark of the name 'Sadiq' for future reference - and simultaneously lowered it as he thought of Elizaveta's dying breaths, and how she clung so desperately to Roderich as her eyes glossed over.

He thought of how Roderich refused to leave her side even though she was already gone, and how he himself knew he could never be so brave for someone no matter how much they meant to him.

Kiku and Heracles looked away, they didn't know who exactly had died, but they understood from Arthur's expression that their missions to get water and clothes hadn't been a success.

"Ahfed," Arthur said, his voice muffled by the gag in his mouth.

"Alfred?" Kiku asked with a tilt of his head.

"Wheh ish he?" Arthur asked again, getting frustrated with himself and with the other two men in the room with him. He knew it wasn't their fault, but he couldn't help taking his frustrations out on them despite all of that.

"We don't know," Kiku answered on Heracles' behalf, "we only saw you when we got here, no one else."

Arthur felt himself internally panicking, he knew something bad had happened but he didn't know what. Something bad had happened to Alfred, and he couldn't figure out what exactly it was that had happened to him. Arthur shifted around, trying to release himself from the binds that tied his arms and legs together, he was growing impatient and panicked.

"Please relax," Heracles said in the most calming voice he could muster, "panicking isn't going to get us anywhere, we just need to wait and think of a plan to get out of here."

"Think of a plan?" Arthur wanted to shout, "what kind of damned plan could we come up with in our situation, you idiot, we have nothing, and I don't even have my memories!"

"I think I have one," Heracles said, looking at Kiku who sat beside him, "I just don't know how safe it's going to be, and how well it'll work, especially on someone as quick witted and informed as Sadiq."

Just as Heracles was ready to tell them his big plan, the heavy metal door slid open to reveal Sadiq, and along with him was a blonde haired man and a young woman that was practically attached to his hip. They both looked upset about something, but neither Heracles, Kiku, nor Arthur cared or wanted to know what it was they were upset about.

Whatever it was - if they were consorting with Sadiq like it seemed - then they probably deserved all the misfortune they got.

"These are my new pets," Sadiq said with a grin as he looked at the two blondes.

"The ones I actually managed to collect," Sadiq said impatiently as he smacked the back of the blonde man's head with blunt force, his grin dropping into a heavy scowl in a flash.

When the door finally shut behind the new group that had walked in, they jumped right back into their argument right in front of Kiku, Heracles, and Arthur like it wasn't a big deal. They were treating them like they were small fries, not even worthy of their attention or concern.

"They holed themselves up in a bulletproof room, with guns and plenty of ammo," the tall blonde man said, "there was no way Manon and I could have taken that kind of chance, we would have been destroyed in seconds, Sadiq."

"We need to get them," Sadiq yelled, "it's day time now anyway, and they can't stay in there forever, go out there and give them hell! Vash and Lilly were also clearly unsuccessful, or else they would have been back by now, so you might as well go and find him for some help too. I don't know where they are, but check the monitors to see where they took off to. It's ridiculous that a whole group of you couldn't get anything done, and I'm only one man and I managed to grab three people without any problems at all. I'm not going to help any of you ungrateful strays anymore; I've done more than my own share of collecting the garbage. Clean up after yourselves.

'Collecting the garbage' Arthur thought as his eyes wandered the room, they slowly scanned over the green hooded man that looked so familiar, and the other two people being scolded viciously by him. That's when he realized that at least one of them was paying attention, it was the girl, looking directly at him. She didn't look scared, disgusted, bothered, or even happy - she didn't have any readable expression on her face.

"...Not only that, but have you considered different ways of getting to the people? It doesn't take a rocket scientist to think of a different way of attack." Sadiq slapped the man on the forehead again, and this time the other man recoiled and almost tried to hit the man back. However, just before he let his fist fly, he stopped himself.

Sadiq continued despite the growing rage on the man's face, "you could have easily pretended you were injured, or that you were simply lost travellers, and they probably would have let you into the fucking room! We haven't been observing these people for so long for nothing, we learned stuff about them that we could use against them, and you don't even take the fucking chance! You could have caught them off guard when you got in after a warm conversation, and blew all of those fuckers to hell, do you hear me? It would have been easy."

The man sighed, resigned to the man's scolding, and nodded his head.

"Good, now help me lug these ones out," Sadiq said, arm waving towards the three survivors that were still tied up, "after that, I want the both of you to find Vash and Lilli, then head to get the rest of them. I'll scold those two later."

Sadiq continued to scold the two new people, and continued to do so as he walked toward Kiku, Heracles, and Arthur. It was as if he wasn't worried about the survivors, he acted as if he was invincible.

Arthur looked down absently, and with widened eyes realized that Kiku was still, in fact, tied up, but that Heracles had somehow broken the heavy rope binding his thin wrists. As Arthur continued to look at the broken rope in disbelief, he saw a faint glimmer coming from something in Heracles' hands – a shard of broken glass that was cutting into his hand ever so slightly. He must have picked it up after he had been kidnapped, or maybe it had been stuck in one of his feet, but that didn't matter, because Heracles had escaped the odds, and he had given them a new chance for survival.

However, it was Arthur that had ruined their already meagre chances at escape. He didn't intentionally do it, but he had done it nonetheless.

Sadiq took one look in Arthur's widened eyes and figured out exactly what was going on. Sadiq's eyes lit up like fireworks, flaring angrily behind his smoky brown orbs. Heracles saw this though, and jumped to his feet before Sadiq could even open his mouth to warn the others.

Sadiq was quick and intelligent, but so was Heracles.

Heracles swiped out toward Kiku with the broken shard of glass in his hands, and cut the rope on Kiku's wrists, while at the same time he cut upward and slashed one of Sadiq's eyes, blinding him in his left eye and doing permanent damage.

A few seconds weren't enough, though, and Sadiq still had perfect use of his right eye. Heracles cutting his face had only put him off guard for a second, then he had gotten right back into the game.

Sadiq had the upper hand, and even though Kiku's arms were free, his legs were not and he couldn't have helped even if he wanted to, and lord, did he want to help Heracles. Instead, Kiku could only watch helplessly as Sadiq pushed him onto the table beside Arthur, and mercilessly beat him until his face was a brutal mess of blood. Sadiq was much stronger than Heracles, and with the help of the other two people in the room, Heracles was virtually helpless.

"Do you really think that was a good idea?" Sadiq screamed into Heracles' face, "do you really think that you could escape me, or do any damage to me?"

Heracles, in return, spit in the man's remaining good eye, which only proved to make the man even angrier than he was before. Heracles tried to kick his legs out at the man, but the taller blonde man finally joined in after the initial shock and held Heracles down onto the table with nothing more than one arm.

"I'll teach you, and your little friends, that I am not to be messed with!" Sadiq said, hitting Heracles across the face with the back of his hand as one final hurrah.

Sadiq backed up, silently telling to the tall blonde man to hold Heracles while he prepared whatever it was that he planned to do with all three of them.

Nothing could have prepared them for what he did.

Sadiq pulled a gun out of his pocket, pointed it at Heracles' head, and shot him point blank without a second's hesitation. There were no dramatic words, there were no warnings - he just pulled the trigger and ended Heracles' life like he was nothing more than a bug that needed to be squashed.

Kiku's eyes widened, but he couldn't even muster a scream, the only thing he could do was look on in horror as Heracles' blood started spilling over the side of the table, making a large red puddle on the floor right next to him.

Sadiq drew back, wiping the blood from the end of the pistol and sneering, as if the blood on it was from nothing but some creature, like it was the blood of one of the infected. He wiped the blood on the end of his tattered shirt, and put the pistol into the back of his pocket again before he looked at the rest of the group with a snide grin on his face.

Kiku recoiled, and looked down at the ground, only to realize that tears were coming from his eyes. However, he hated himself for the fact that the tears coming from his eyes were not from sadness, but from pure, unadulterated fear. He couldn't find it in himself to mourn right away, he could only find it in himself to hope that he wouldn't get killed in the same way that Heracles did. He could only hope that his death wasn't so sudden and meaningless.

Their world – their lives – were nothing like what you saw on the T.V. screens, or during big picture horror movies, you didn't get a chance to say goodbye – there was no dramatic kiss or 'I love you', Heracles' death was all that you got – and that was only if you were lucky. No chance to react, no chance to regret or be happy, you just died – you were killed without a second's hesitation.

Your death was insignificant; the world continued to spin.

Kiku wished that wasn't the way things went, but he couldn't do anything about what had just happened to Heracles. Someone he had grown fond of – someone he had grown to respect immensely – someone he was even growing to love, died pointlessly at the hands of a power hungry madman with a gun and a group of minions at his beck and call.

Kiku became completely still.

Finally, Arthur started thrashing around in his binds, trying with all his might to inch away from the blood making its way toward him in a steady stream. However, despite his apparent fear of being touched by Heracles' spilled blood, his eyes wouldn't leave the sight before him. It was like a train wreck, no matter how horrible it was, you have to watch.

Sadiq grew impatient with the way Arthur was acting, so to make him stop Sadiq ran his hand – palm and fingers – through the heavy blood on the table, only to wipe it on Arthur's face by way of a hard, echoing slap. The blood splattered all around Arthur face, some of it got into his eyes, into his nose, and worst of all it got into his mouth.

The entire room grew quiet, everyone in it was waiting to see Arthur's reaction.

Arthur didn't have time to react for them though, as Sadiq grabbed Arthur's face in his hands and pressed Arthur's bloodied forehead to his own. He looked directly into his eyes, so piercing and furious that Arthur couldn't have looked away if he had wanted to.

Sadiq pulled the sock out of Arthur's mouth, finally allowing the man more room to breathe and speak; however, he wouldn't speak to Sadiq in his current state. He would only end up like Heracles in the end; there was no point in fighting with the man.

"Your friend," Sadiq said with a laugh, "the one you were begging Kiku and Heracles to tell you about earlier? Do you want to know what happened to him, Arthur?"

Arthur didn't nod his head at the man, he knew it was a rhetorical questions and that even if he shook his head Sadiq would tell him.

"I threw him over a three story drop, and his bones shattered to piec-"

Before Sadiq could even finish what he was about to say, Arthur remembered everything in one blinding flash. He remembered running from the infected, he remembered leaving Roderich behind with Elizaveta's dead body, and most of all he remembered running to the middle of the mall behind Alfred, and standing on the overlook with him. He remembered looking down to check if any of the infected were near the entrance.

They had been so close to salvation. So close.

Then Sadiq had shown up, causing Alfred to go into a desperate, and rage fuelled frenzy. Arthur couldn't blame him for his reaction at the time, as they had been so close to finally escaping the death trap that was the mall. Sadiq had begun choking Alfred because of a reckless move he had tried to make and Arthur remembered grabbing him, trying to wrestle his fingers off of Alfred's neck, however, he was nowhere near as strong as Sadiq was. With just one quick hit, Sadiq had him lying flat on the ground, breathless and clueless.

"Your little friend is dead, can you hear that through that thick skull of yours?" Arthur remembered the faint feel of the man's knuckles tapping on his head like he was scolding a small child, and he remembered the stench of the man's breath washing across his face as he laughed at him. "Now, without any more interruptions from your little friend, you're coming with me."

Arthur would never forget Sadiq's words, no matter how hard he would try, the words Sadiq had spoken to him were not words that were easily forgotten. Not only that, the words that Sadiq had spoken were true. The man was many things, but a liar he was not.

Alfred was dead, and there was nothing Arthur could do to change it.

† -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- † -- †

"Hey, pancakes, wake up," Gilbert said in a hushed voice, shaking the blonde man's shoulder to garner his attention.

Matthew tried to respond to Gilbert, but he was so tired and sleep deprived that he could barely feel his own mouth working around the other man's name. Instead, he settled for opening his eyes a crack, just enough to show Gilbert that he was awake and that he could hear him. Matthew's eyebrows, however, were working fine enough to knit together at the name Gilbert had just called him.

"What's with that expression?" Gilbert asked.

"Pancakes?" Matthew finally mustered.

Gilbert laughed quietly, "I woke up to you talking about pancakes, and how much you wanted some. I have to tell you, your vivid descriptions of their taste made me really hungry."

"Jesus Christ," Matthew thought to himself, mentally slapping the palm on his hand to his face. He was so careful with his words when he was talking with someone, yet he didn't have a thought-to-mouth filter when it came to his sleep.

"Seriously though, we need to get out of here soon, the sun's already up."

Matthew looked up at the faintly glowing, dust dirtied skylight and verified what Gilbert was saying; it was already daylight, and they needed to get moving quick and think of something fast before night fell again. If they didn't, they would be left behind by the rest of the group to die off from either starvation, or from being attacked by one of the infected.

Their biggest problem was not the infected, but the possibility of being left behind by the group.

That was, if any of the group remained. If they were all facing similar problems as them, then maybe they wouldn't be the only ones running behind on schedule. At least, Matthew hoped that they weren't the only ones.

In fact, Matthew hoped that they weren't going to be the only ones showing up at the lot with the cars in it. If that was the case, he didn't know what they would do from there. And knowing Gilbert's love for his brother, he wouldn't want to leave without scaling the entire mall for him.

Gilbert was a sane, well built, and completely reasonable person, but when it came to his brother he was nothing more than a blind sheep.

Matthew prayed that that wouldn't be the situation they would come to, because hard decisions would need to be made on the spot, there would be no room for argument or discussion. Matthew wasn't good at on the spot decisions; he was good at thinking things through for an extended period of time - he was a critical thinker. The most they would be given would be 10 minutes, and that was being generous.

Matthew tried to save face despite these frightening thoughts, and got to his feet before Gilbert could begin suggesting that they 'get a move on'. Matthew stood up and carefully scanned the food court, happy that nothing had gotten through in the night. Truly, there really was no worry because if some of them had broken in during the night, both he and Gilbert would either be dead or infected by one of them. Matthew was just being paranoid, and justifiably so.

Gilbert stood up beside him, brushing dirt off of the back of his jeans as he stood next to Matthew. His eyes, however, were firmly locked on the guns that they had both carelessly cast aside when they had run into the Mediterranean fast food joint. It was a stupid mistake on their part, because if the infected could smell them out when they walked out into the open air of the food court, they would be dead in a matter of seconds. The infected were getting stronger and stronger, and if they were still lingering outside they could have the doors broken down in no time at all.

"Let's just run," Matthew said despite his own fears, "standing here and thinking about how this is going to work would be pointless, you can't make a plan when you have unpredictable factors playing in from – quite literally – all around us." Matthew ran a hand through his sweat damp hair, only then starting to realize that the day was unseasonably warm - it was fall, yet it felt much like the dead of summer. "Let's run, grab the gun, each shoulder one, break the gun barring the door with a knife, and run like wild to the front of the mall."

Gilbert was quiet for a moment as he looked at Matthew with a blank expression on his face, still taking in everything Matthew had shot at him. When he finally seemed to have taken it in, a smile began steadily growing on his pale face. His hand shot out and he ruffled Matthew's hair, adding a quick, "you impress me more and more every day. But, it sounds like we have a lot of running coming up."

Then, without another word, Gilbert took Matthew's advice to heart, grabbed Matthew's hand, and dragged him quickly behind him as they ran like wild for the two duffel bags of guns lying on the floor.

Gilbert wasn't one to hesitate, that was obvious.

Just as soon as they had the duffel bags in their hands, the doors on the other side of the food court were bombarded with heavy impacts made by the infected. Judging by the way the metal doors were bending on their frames, they would crank the doors open in no less than 2 minutes.

They had 2 minutes to break the rifle Francis had used to barricade the door, and they had nothing more than a knife that would fit through the small break in the adjacent metal doors.

2 minutes.

Matthew and Gilbert both sifted through their duffel bags, frantically searching for the knife that they had brought along with them. They only had one, for whatever reason, and now they needed it more than they ever would have thought they would.

A knife had virtually no value to the survivors as the infected were very difficult to take down with just that, so they assumed that they didn't need one. The only uses that a knife had for them was to kill an infected silently, and that never worked very well in the end for them.

Assuming things made an ass out of people, and it certainly made an ass out of Gilbert and Matthew.

However, it seemed as though Gilbert had struck gold. With a loud 'aha' Gilbert drew the knife out of his own duffel bag, dropped the bag onto the floor carelessly, and pushed the door so he could fit the sharp knife through the small crack. From there, he set to work on pressing the knife heavily against the wooden barrel of the gun.

They were lucky there were still wooden pieces on the gun, and the fact that the iron was relatively supple, they could break it if they put enough effort into it. The only problem was that they didn't have much time to break the gun in question, and they would need brute force if they wanted to get out before the infected got to them.

"Gilbert, come on," Matthew said frantically, grabbing onto Gilbert's arm as if it would somehow make the barrel of the gun break faster. Matthew looked back at the door on the other side of the food court and realized that the infected would be able to break it even sooner than he had anticipated. The metal was creaking and bending, it seemed like there were more of them outside than there were before. There was quite a distance from the front and the back of the food court, but judging by the increasing speed of the infected, that distance could be crossed in no time at all. They needed to work faster, somehow.

Making noise wouldn't be a problem anymore, the entire store was probably alerted, and considering it was daytime they would be more visible.

That was it.

Noise.

Matthew, struck with an idea, grabbed a gun out of a duffel bag without even consulting with Gilbert, and ran toward the middle of the food court where the dirty skylight still left a faint glow on everything.

"Mattie," Gilbert shouted from where he was still trying to break the rifle in two, "stop, you can't try to take them all with one god damn gun! Think about what you're doing."

Matthew smirked to himself, if he had had time to tell Gilbert what his plan truly was, Gilbert probably would have called him a genius again. Matthew ran as fast as he could, trying not to look at the metal door at the end of the hall that were beginning to gape open, revealing denizens of mottled, gored hands reaching out for he and Gilbert's smell.

Before he executed his plan, Matthew shouted a quick "don't worry" back at Gilbert.

Matthew stood in the middle of the food court, pointed the gun in his hands up at the skylight far above him, and shot until there were no more bullets left in his gun - it had been fully loaded. The skylight, or what used to be the skylight, was nothing more than an enormous gaping hole, letting in wave and wave of gorgeous golden rays. Matthew hoped his suspicions had been right about the infected becoming increasingly more sensitive to the sun, but if he wasn't right, he would be happy that at least he could say he tried when the infected finally lunched on he and Gilbert's flesh.

When Matthew started running back, he met eyes with Gilbert who was still smiling at him from beneath his sweat damp hair. Matthew ran up behind him quickly as he heard the door behind them finally giving way, lifted his leg, and kicked the door as hard as he could.

The rifle snapped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the really slow updates, I've been travelling back and forth with my parents to visit my university, and we also have another trip planned to go and pick up my new puppy(: )). Things should be back to normal starting today, and I'm not just blowing that out to tide you guys over, I promise!
> 
> Stay tuned, this arc is almost over, then we're going to get into the second-last arc (or last depending on how you look at it.)


	24. Chapter 24

Many people in their world regarded death as a bad thing. They saw death as an end to something great; an end to something they cherished more than anything. But, in reality, was death truly such a horrible thing? The world was rotten, cold, broken, and it had been that way long before the outbreak had happened.

In Kiku's eyes, death was only a means to an end of a cruel and gruelling experience. You were lucky if you were given a chance to die so easily like Heracles had, with a bullet to the head, and no time to think, anticipate, or fear for what was about to happen.

When he had first watched Sadiq throw Heracles' lifeless body into a heap on the floor, he had been sad – he had been crying. He thought "I'll never get to see him again, and, I'll never get to know him properly", and that was when it all struck him. Heracles had escaped. Heracles had escaped the cruel world that had so oppressed them.

Kiku wasn't sad about Heracles' death, he realized, he was just sad about his own situation. Heracles had died, leaving him all alone with no one to talk to, and no one to look to for help. For his own selfish reasons, Kiku wanted Heracles to live – he wanted to die before Heracles died.

Kiku was jealous of Heracles' death, and at the same time angry at him for not staying alive.

He accepted that and – despite his selfish need to see Heracles' face at least one last time – moved on. Kiku resigned himself to his fate, knowing that he would soon be joining Heracles in peace and nothingness.

Kiku closed his eyes, ignoring the fact that only a few feet away from him, Arthur was thrashing around in Sadiq's grip like a feral cat.

\--

With none of his limbs free, Arthur chose to use his head as his weapon of choice. He wriggled out of Sadiq's vice grip and launched himself upward with the use of his thighs, landing a heavy blow under Sadiq's jaw.

The man recoiled, holding his left hand to his mouth as if he had been scandalized by something. Blood dribbled out of the corner of his mouth, which he wiped up nonchalantly with the end of one of his filthy, green sleeves. "What a cheap shot," Sadiq said with a bored expression on his face, "not that I'd expect anything more from you though, Arthur."

"Fuck you," Arthur spit out, finally able to speak after having the gag taken out of his mouth.

Sadiq laughed, moving the hand cradling his jaw up to cover his eyes, then to tug on his own dirty hair in frustration. "Do you know why I took that gag out of your mouth, Arthur?"

Arthur didn't respond to the man, he only glared up at him from under his pale eyelashes.

"Well, I certainly didn't take it off because I wanted to hear that horrible, grating voice of yours," Sadiq said as he clapped his hands on either side of Arthur's body. "I took that gag off of you because I wanted to hear you squeal like a pig when I finally let those brain-dead fucking creatures out there eat the rotten flesh off of your bones while you're still alive."

Arthur didn't respond to this taunting with a curse like he normally would as he realized that it was what Sadiq wanted, instead he remained quiet.

This clearly made Sadiq annoyed as he grabbed Arthur by the collar of his shirt and brought him nose-to-nose with himself. He gripped so hard that the back of Arthur's neck was burning from the friction the material was making against his already raw and chapped skin. However, Arthur did not let out a sound despite the pain. He knew that he was going to die, so he at least wanted to die with some semblance of his dignity left. Even if it did appear to be insignificant and defiant, he wouldn't cry out no matter how much pain he was in. He wouldn't give Sadiq the satisfaction of hearing him scream and shout from all the torment – even if the infected were ripping him apart.

Sadiq, growing tired of Arthur, threw him against the ceramic tiles with a loud thud causing Kiku to finally open his eyes to the scene in front of him.

He realized as Sadiq wrestled Arthur to the floor that he could no longer stand idly by and selfishly wait for his own death. He needed to help Arthur; he needed to somehow find a way to help him before he perished. He may have wanted to die himself, but he didn't want to stand idly by as someone's life was taken from them unwillingly. Everyone had a choice, and Kiku had made his. However, with his arms still bound to the table leg, he could do nothing but watch as Sadiq beat Arthur within an inch of his life.

Kiku knew exactly what Arthur was trying to do, and silently resented him for both his power and his blatant stupidity in the face of danger. It was clear that Arthur was acting out of defiance, and that he was trying to do his best not to give Sadiq what he wanted just to save face.

Kiku knew that he couldn't help Arthur's current state, but if Sadiq truly brought them out and used that as bait to round up the infected, then Kiku could at least try to help the man get out of their situation alive. At this point, he was more than willing to offer himself up as live bait.

That was the least he could do, however, he could only watch on and cringe as Sadiq began torturing Arthur – slow and unrelenting.

Kiku wished he could tell Arthur that defiance wouldn't help his case; he wished he could tell him that it would be better to just give Sadiq what he wanted. Then they wouldn't have to deal with the problems facing them, or rather, they would be able to face their problems sooner rather than later.

However, no matter how much he wanted to help out, Kiku could only sit on and watch helplessly as one of his new friends fought for his own life.

Sadiq wrestled Arthur to the floor, and eventually, after struggling with the wildly thrashing man, pinned him to the floor on his stomach. Arthur struggled for a few moments more before he finally stopped, realizing that struggling against Sadiq in his current position would gain nothing for him in the end – much like fighting against quicksand. He could still keep his complacent attitude toward the older man, but trying to fight with him while his arms and legs were bound was completely useless, and in turn would only cause Sadiq to lash out at him even more violently. His situation was so drab that - even on his stomach - he couldn't even turn his head.

Sadiq grew silent from behind him, and he silently resented himself for giving in to him. The silence indicated that Sadiq was satisfied with what he had done. He had made Arthur still his movements, and that was one victory too many for the cruel man. However, Arthur knew that he was far better off at least giving him that victory. He would end up in an even worse place if he didn't do at least this for Sadiq.

"At least I got you to stop fighting with me and acting like a damned wild animal," Sadiq said, leaning down to whisper the words into Arthur's ear. "Now, all I need from you is to hear your voice. Trust me, if you speak now this experience will be much easier for you when it comes your turn to die."

Arthur remained quiet, being defiant despite being scared almost to the point of sobbing and trembling like a small child. Arthur persevered though, and he did it only to save his own personal pride. If he were to look back on what he had done, he would have called himself an idiot for acting the way he did. If he hadn't tried to remain quiet, he probably wouldn't have been so tortured, so broken in such a cruel, horrendous, and brutal way.

His spirit and his own will to live probably wouldn't have been torn apart by his captor so thoroughly.

Without any prior warning, Sadiq grabbed the waist of Arthur's warn-down pants and began working them down around his thighs, dragging his undergarments along with them without even a second of hesitation. Arthur seized up when he realized what Sadiq was going to try to do to him, and after a few seconds of internal argument, Arthur began thrashing around even more wildly than he had been before. At this point, he had long forgotten trying to please Sadiq by calming down; it seemed that no matter what he did, the man was now completely bent out of shape and planning to bring as much pain to him as possible no matter what he did or didn't do.

Arthur realized that even using his voice at this point would be useless, and that Sadiq wouldn't stop no matter what happened. So, to save face in the face of something dangerous, he chose not to speak. He would thrash and lash out at the man, but he wouldn't speak. He couldn't speak even if he had wanted to.

"Fine, if you don't want to speak, I'll just force your voice right out of you," Sadiq said, disregarding Arthur's shallow breathing and laying – full body – on the man's back, causing him to lose his breath, and in turn also causing him to completely lose the power to fight the larger, and more powerful man.

Arthur looked over his shoulder, only to see Kiku looking at him dead in the eyes, as if he was begging him to just spit it out – begging him to finally speak so Sadiq wouldn't punish him with quite so much cruel brutality.

Arthur knew all of this, and yet he chose to remain silent.

\--

Alfred woke up with a choked off groan and the feeling of his clothes – sticky and warm – clinging to the back of his body. He didn't know what it was that was that was causing it, and he didn't care, because the only thing he cared about was getting back up to the next floor to stop Sadiq from furthering the damage he had done to their group.

However, when Alfred tried to move away from the floor, an excruciating pain ripped through his body, keeping him virtually stuck to the floor. When Alfred tried to settle back down and bring his body back up again, the pain struck tenfold. At first he had thought that it was a broken bone, but when he moved his body for the third time, he realized it wasn't. There was something sticking into him, grinding into the broken, blistered flesh.

Despite this horrible pain, Alfred mustered up enough strength to finally roll himself over onto his stomach, allowing for him to see if he had landed on something. His clothes cracked as he rolled away from the mess on the ground, indicating that he had been out for quite some time. He internally cursed himself, but before he continued with his self-loathing, he finally realized what was wrong with him.

Underneath Alfred's body had been one of the infected, and he realized that he must have landed on it when Sadiq had dropped him from the top story.

"It's the only reason I'm alive," Alfred thought to himself as he looked down at the bloody mess on the floor. He had been dropped from a few stories, there was no way he would have lived if he hadn't have had one of the infected down below to break his fall. Alfred would have never thought he would be thanking his life to the infected – the creatures that were, after all, trying to destroy all of them – but here he was, silently thanking one.

After a few seconds of breathlessness, Alfred took in one deep gasp of air and realized that there truly was something piercing his skin. He yelped and ended up rolling back over onto his back despite trying so hard to stay up. Alfred was strong, but there was only so much pain one body could take.

For a few seconds, Alfred lay there on his back, recounting the events that had happened before he had taken his plunge. He knew that he should be moving and trying his hardest to find Arthur and the others, but another part of him just couldn't muster up the energy to do so. It was like his brain wasn't able to process anything that had happened at the speed it should have been. He believed that he must have jostled his head quite hard when he fell despite having one of the infected cushioning his fall, that was what it was.

As he lay there, he absently looked up at the skylight that was currently letting in an dusky red evening light that pooled around his fallen form. He watched the moon beginning to make its appearance from the dark reaches of the sky, and he silently waited for the stars to shine through the dark.

If only…

Alfred heard a shout loud enough to cause him to stir from his semi-unconsciousness, and his mind cleared immediately. It was Arthur, but the voice was too far away from where he was to hear properly.

Alfred gritted his teeth and forced his body into a sitting position despite the extreme physical pain it caused him to do so. And, when he was finally fully seated, he took a moment to try to pinpoint where exactly the wound was without moving his body too much.

Alfred wriggled his back, and with that he realized that there was something wedged into the very small of back. It was in one of the worst places possible, but at least it hadn't prevented him from walking.

Alfred reaching behind himself, and with a few failed attempts, finally found the thing that was causing him all the pain. It was something soft – almost silky – sticking out of his back.

Like ivory.

Alfred felt his stomach give an uncomfortable heave, not because he was hungry or thirst, but because the idea made him sick to his stomach. The thing sticking out of his back was a bone, but it was not one of his own, it was one that had come out of the infected.

Alfred, frantic, grabbed the bone sticking into his back and pulled it out without any kind of preparation - mental or physical. He held in a loud shout with his dirty sleeved arm and felt tears tracking down his dirt stained cheeks, not from the pain but from the idea of what he had just pulled free from his back.

It wasn't so much the pain disturbing him anymore, but the idea that a bone from one of the infected had been lodged so deep into his back.

There was also the fact that, without knowing how the infection was capable of spreading, there would be no way to no if Alfred would turn. They had all yet to see someone directly infected by one of them through blood, and they had only ever seen the infection spread through a bite. However, there was still no way to be absolutely certain about how it could spread.

There was no way to know if Alfred was already infected or not.

Alfred, however, mussed up the courage and tried to push the idea at the very back of his mind. His number one priority was to help the group, and he knew that moping about it wouldn't help their case. Even if he was infected, he could at least save the others from being infected themselves.

Alfred threw the bone to his left without a question and took to his feet, ignoring the dull, hollow throb from the weeping wound on his lower back. He needed to hurry. Judging by the amount of blood he felt leaking from the wound on his back and painting the back of his clothes dark red, he would pass out from blood loss in no time.

As Alfred took to the flight of stairs as quietly as possible, carefully looking around for the infected, he became more and more worried as he couldn't hear anything. No screams, no cries for help, not even the sound of shuffling feat as the infected made their way toward them. The whole place was completely silent, just as it had been when they had first entered the building. Alfred found himself unconsciously picking up his pace until the dull ache in his back became a roaring scream. However, even as the pain became worse and worse, he remained completely silent and bit down on his bottom lip to stifle the groans of pain that wanted to escape him. He wouldn't jeopardize the groups' safety for something so trivial.

When Alfred reached the third floor, he prayed that he would somehow be able to hear the sound of someone screaming – someone making any kind of sound. He wanted to find his friends and help them, that was all, he could have easily selfishly left the building and taken off with one of the cars if he had really wanted to. He didn't though, he didn't because he would willingly put himself in danger for the sake of his friends. He would have died long ago from the infected had it not been for their help.

That could have been all for the better though, considering the fact that there was a high chance that everyone was already trapped or dead somewhere in the building. From what the man had been saying to Arthur and he before he had thrown him off of the drop, he and far more people were out to get his entire group. They had been the people that had led them to the mall in the first place, after all, they were obviously far more capable than most of the group.

However, as things were becoming harder and harder to understand, and his vision becoming more and more blurred, he heard a voice off in the distance – Arthur's voice.

\--

Arthur was never one to react accordingly to situations; he was known to either go completely overboard, or he would underestimate the seriousness of the situation he was facing. However, in this case his reaction was excusable due to the fact that he had just witnessed four brutal deaths in one day.

However, the thing that made the murders and deaths even more intense was the fact that two of them had been done by a human, and not by one of the infected. This fact alone was enough to drive anyone mad.

However, there was something more that had happened that had destroyed Arthur even more than the murders had; something that had not only scarred him physically, but also mentally.

When Sadiq had manhandled him onto his stomach, he figured that Sadiq was going to beat him – and he had - but Arthur hadn't expected what came after Sadiq had finished beating him black and blue. And it had all happened in front of Kiku, to add insult to injury.

For a few moments, Sadiq had hovered over Arthur's back, breathing raggedly due to the fact that he had beaten Arthur so violently that he was completely out of breath.

The whole room grew silent, sole for the sound of Sadiq and Arthur's harsh and erratic breathing. Seconds, minutes, maybe even hours passed before Sadiq began doing something that Arthur hadn't quite seen coming. He began laughing, and while it was a completely breathless and humourless laugh, it scared Arthur all the same. It scared Arthur because he knew Sadiq had thought of something else to do to him, and whatever it was couldn't have been good for his case.

Arthur had initially assumed that maybe Sadiq was going to use him as bait, or maybe feed him to one of the infected in front of Arthur, but that wasn't what he did.

Arthur felt the weight shift from thighs and onto his calves, and before he could even fathom what Sadiq was up to, he felt cold fingers press against the skin of his lower back. He knew that Sadiq had pulled down his pants and underwear for this reason, but part of him had wanted to believe that it wasn't for this.

Arthur wanted to scream, but he held it in.

His teeth were chattering from the cold, and his body trembled when Sadiq ran his blood warm hands down over his ass.

"Stop," Arthur heard, the voice almost too low to hear over the sound of his own heart beating viciously in his ears.

"What was that?" Sadiq asked.

Arthur felt the weight shift on his legs as Sadiq moved to look at Kiku, Kiku who was still bound to the leg of the table, and whose pants were covered in the blood that had leaked from Heracles body.

It was a truly morbid sight to behold.

"Why should I stop?" Sadiq asked, and Arthur could almost feel the smirk on his face despite not even being able to look at him from his position on the floor.

Kiku didn't answer him, and this seemed to anger Sadiq as he grabbed a handful of Arthur's hair, slamming his head into the ground in process, "I said why shouldn't I, rice boy?"

"What good will it do you?"

Sadiq laughed, and in doing so ground Arthur's already battered face against the rough floor, scraping the tender flesh of his cheeks and leaving dull red smears of blood on the ground. "It'll do me plenty of good."

Arthur swallowed hard when he felt Sadiq's hardness pressing up against his rear, and he swallowed around a building scream in his throat.

It wasn't so much that he was scared of the pain of this, he had already felt so much, but it was more his already destroyed pride and remaining peace of mind that he was scared for. He had lost so much dignity already – so much pride – the last thing he needed was to be humiliated in front of one of his group like an animal. He felt that if Sadiq truly went through with this act, then he would become as depraved as one of the infected.

He didn't want this anymore.

Arthur thrashed his legs out in a final weak attempt at getting away from Sadiq even though he knew that his efforts were futile. Sadiq's weight was so solid and heavy on the back of his thighs that he could do nothing but hit Sadiq's back weakly with his bound feet.

Sadiq seemed to have lost interest in Kiku as soon as he had done this, and swooped down until his weight was pressed fully into his back and his mouth was against the shell of his ear.

"Still trying to get away?"

Arthur shuddered at this, however he took advantage of the close proximity and turned his head, biting Sadiq's bottom lip so hard that his teeth marks were clearly visible, causing blood to dribble down Sadiq's chin in a seamless red stream.

Sadiq sat back up at this, and without any hesitation drew back his fists and pummeled the back of Arthur's head without any mercy. He hit him so hard at one point that his head was knocked forward into the ground – and at that, Arthur was sure that he felt his nose break on contact.

However, just as soon as Arthur thought he would have some relief and pass out from the loss of blood, Sadiq stopped his savage beating and grew frighteningly silent once again.

Arthur could barely see at this point, however he did notice when the weight shifted on his back. Sadiq was leaning over the top of him, and dipping his hand down into Heracles' spilled blood.

It took a moment for it to register in his concussion dazed mind, but when it did, he finally let out a scream.

"No, no, I'll talk, I'm sorry, please just don't do that," Arthur shouted desperately, voice raw from all the screams and shouts he had tried so hard to hold in out of defiance. He regretted that all now, and he regretted it even more when he felt Sadiq's blood slicked manhood pressing at his rear.

Arthur screamed.

\--

There it was again, and this time he could tell where the scream was coming from, just a little longer and he would be there.

Alfred took to his feet, gulping when he looked back and realized that the sun was quickly descending. The mall was almost completely dark at this point, and the area he needed to head to was completely shrouded in darkness, the only thing to guide him with a small light at the very end of the hallway.

He would have to run and hope that nothing would grab onto him as he did so.

He was making a death run, essentially.

But that scream that he had heard, he knew that it was from Arthur, but he had never heard something like that coming from his mouth before. Arthur was his best friend, and even though they argued constantly, they had remained in contact since they were very young children. And out of all that time he had known him – his best friend – he had never heard such a pained, frightened, and absolutely terrified voice coming from his mouth.

Alfred picked up the pace, trying to ignore the black vignette that ate away at the corners of his vision. He wouldn't pass out, not now, not when he was so close to stopping whatever was happening to the group.

Whatever was happening to Arthur.

Another scream rang through the mall, this one guttural and broken.

Alfred felt sweat dripping down from his hairline to his lower back – he hadn't realized he had been sweating so intensely until now. That wasn't good, his body was getting cold and unresponsive, he needed to hurry or he wouldn't be able to move or open his eyes no matter how much he wanted to – no matter how much he needed to.

Alfred bit back his fear as he ran blindly into the dark, using the light filtering out from underneath the door he was shooting for as his only guide. He didn't know if he was being loud enough to hear, as he couldn't even hear himself over his own blood pumping in his ears, but it seemed that whatever was going on inside that door was enough to distract the people inside from noticing his heavy footsteps and even heavier breathing as he approached.

Alfred finally reached the door, and without another thought or any hesitation, he slammed the door open and threw himself inside. He didn't have any weapons, he didn't have any protective gear, he didn't even have a plan, and most of his strength had depleted from just the run up the stairs. The only thing Alfred had going for him at this point was his adrenaline, and when he took in the scene before him, the level of adrenaline in him sky-rocketed.

Alfred was splayed out on the ground on his stomach, and above him hovered Sadiq, thrusting into him at a ferocious pace. For a moment, Alfred could only stand there, but clearly it hadn't been as long as it had felt because Sadiq hadn't even had time to turn around before Alfred was slamming the elbow of his arm into the top of his head.

"What the fu-," Sadiq didn't even have time to react to Alfred as he hit him again, knocking him off of Arthur altogether and onto the blood drench floor beside Kiku. He landed on his back with a harsh thud, knocking the wind out of his lungs in one heavy burst. He tried to get himself back up to reach for his gun, but his hand slipped in the blood underneath him. The blood that he had spilled had been the very second Alfred needed to get the upper-hand over him.

Alfred reached down and grabbed Sadiq by the front of his shirt, stopping his hand as it reached for the gun and pulled it out of the makeshift holster that Sadiq had made.

However, instead of shooting Sadiq like most normal people would have settled for, Alfred slammed Sadiq back onto the table that Heracles' body was still lying motionless on, and slammed the back of his head into the scratched and dirtied surface repeatedly. Slamming it over and over again until the back of Sadiq's head was marred with blood.

"Alfred, stop," Kiku said.

Alfred didn't listen however, and instead opted to make a point of breaking one of Sadiq's legs with the use of one of his heavy boots. He knocked his knee in until there was a heavy crunch, and Sadiq let out a wild, and pained screamed. It was much like the sound a cornered animal made when it knew that it wasn't going to survive.

"Alfred," Arthur yelled.

Alfred finally stilled his movements at the sound of Arthur's voice, hands still buried in Sadiq's thick mop of hair.

"Just, stop."

Alfred finally released his death grip on Sadiq's hair, and Sadiq crumpled to the ground in a boneless heap as soon as he did so. It was hard to tell if he was even awake at this point, or if he had passed out due to the trauma that had been inflicted on his head.

He wasn't done though, and despite finally responding to Arthur, he grabbed the gun that he had taken from Sadiq and shot him, point blank, just as he had clearly done to Heracles.

The entire room grew silent, and without even commenting on what had happened, Alfred knelt down beside Kiku and undid the ropes that bound both of his hands together behind his back. Kiku stood up and immediately moved over to Arthur, pulling his pants up without a word and trying to – futilely – help him to his feet.

Alfred saw this, and picked Arthur up, carrying him on his back so as not to cause any more pain to him if he had any broken ribs or limbs.

Alfred and Kiku both didn't comment on the quiet sobbing they heard from Arthur as they made their way our of the room.

However, just as soon as they were about to head out toward the parking lot, the sound of the infected approaching from the direction Alfred had come in brought them to their senses. The shock finally having worn off and reality finally settling back in.

Alfred should have expected this considering the amount of sound they had made during that fight. Arthur's screaming alone was enough to direct the entire lot of the infected toward them.

They may have gotten rid of one big problem – or at least one of the problems they were facing – but the main problem was still present. The infected were still out roaming the mall, and they needed to get back to the cars before it was too late. They would never be able to meet up with the group if things continued on as they were.

Alfred ran out of the door with Kiku behind him and took a sharp left, the opposite way to the parking lot. Their only choice was to take the long way around, hoping that they wouldn't run into another horde of the infected on the way.

"Hang onto my arm," Alfred said as they began running. It was already dark, the sun having finally descended in the sky, and it would be easy to lose each other in the pitch black hallway if they weren't careful. Not even the moonlight touched where they were running.

Kiku obliged silently and clutched Alfred's elbow, following closely behind him.

Everything seemed like it would be fine, however, everything stopped for Alfred when he heard the voices getting incredibly closer, and the feeling of the weight increasing on his elbow.

One of the infected had grabbed Kiku.

There was no way they were going to make it back in time.

\--

"Matthew!" Gilbert yelled as they ran down the hall, "hurry, hurry, we're not going to make it!"

"I know," Matthew yelled breathlessly, trying his best not to pay attention to how close the horde behind them were.

"God damn it," Gilbert cursed, "which way did we come from?"

"I don't know," Matthew said in panic, his head was still too busy trying to process everything that was happening to them. He couldn't focus on so many things at once, and already the infected were closing in on them at an incredible speed. It was light out, and for whatever reason, they were running into it despite it hurting them.

They were getting smarter, they were getting smarter but Matthew was doing everything in his power not to acknowledge this. The last thing they needed was for their only weakness to become obsolete, and for their day time cover to be brought to a swift halt.

He just hoped that it was only this horde of the infected that was like this.

They were running straight, and Gilbert finally let out a hiss that indicated he remembered the way that they were going. "It's this way, Mattie, it's this way. We're almost there."

They were rounding a sharp corner, and everything seemed like it was working out in their favour, but when they rounded the bend they realized that another horde was headed in their direction.

Both of them continued running blindly despite this, both of them unable to process the fact that they were completely surrounded by he infected.

Had it been Matthew, he would have definitely died.

It was then that Matthew realized just how reliable both Ludwig and Gilbert truly were.

Gilbert grabbed Matthew by the shoulder and picked him up with ease, throwing him up and over onto the unmoving escalators. Matthew fell to the ground, and as soon as he gained his bearings he reached down and grabbed Gilbert in just enough time to get him over the top. Even though his mind was working at a snails pace, he caught on quick enough to help Gilbert get over and onto the broken escalator.

Gilbert fell over the edge and on top of Matthew, but at this he didn't move.

They were both silent, the only sound was the blood pumping in their ears and the beating of their hearts against one another.

They listened for the sound of the infected, praying that they would forget about them; they stayed like that for what seemed like hours until Gilbert slowly lifted his head from Matthew's heaving chest, listening hard for the sounds of movement below them.

Gilbert held a finger up to his lips, indicating to Matthew that he needed to stay quiet, and nodded his head in the direction of the next floor up the escalator.

It was the floor that Roderich and Elizaveta had been asked to look at.

Matthew nodded his head silently at Gilbert, and turned over onto his stomach, pulling himself up each step quietly, checking behind himself every few seconds, checking to see if Gilbert was still there, as if he could just disappear like that.

When they finally reached the top of the escalator steps, they continued to crawl for a long time, dragging themselves until they were sure they were out of sight and earshot. Gilbert stood up first, eyes trained on something intensely.

Matthew stood up as soon as he did, following his eyes until they landed on a small depot, a small depot with shattered glass windows and covered wall to wall with blood.

Matthew felt a shudder work its way up his spine, and he hoped and prayed that it wouldn't be one of their own in the shop. He had a feeling that it was though, and that was all the more reason not to go anywhere near the place.

"Let's go and see," Gilbert said, "just to make sure that someone's not hurt."

"We won't make it back if…"

"Just to see," Gilbert repeated, gritting his teeth.

It was clear that he was thinking on the same lines as Matthew, and that made him even more nervous. If it was one of their group, and god forbid if it were someone like Elizaveta, Matthew was scared to see how Gilbert would react upon seeing something like that in there.

However, Matthew nodded his head despite himself.

They slowly approached the small shop, being careful to not make much noise so as not to alert anything that may be inside. It was dark, after all, and they couldn't see anything.

They cringed every few minutes when one of them stepped on a piece of shattered glass, causing it to crunch under their warn heels.

"Do you have any matches?" Gilbert asked from ahead of Matthew, eyes still trained on the shop despite being unable to see inside without any light source.

"There's some in the bag that we took with us," Matthew whispered from behind Gilbert, already rummaging through the heavy bag with his hands to pull out the matches and lighter than he had seen when he had been digging around for a gun.

"Francis," Matthew thought solemnly as he handed the lighter and matches off to Gilbert. He had been trying so hard not to think about it, but it was bound to happen. Just this small moment of silence was enough to bring back the terrible memories that he had been trying so hard to keep buried away. Matthew was so caught up in his thoughts that he hadn't even noticed Gilbert flicking the lighter and walking away from him.

It was only when he heard his distressed voice, and the sound of the duffle bag slung over his shoulder hitting the ground, that he snapped out of his stupor. It was like he was being forced from one nightmare into the next, because when he walked up behind Gilbert and looked over his shoulder, he was greeted with a horrific scene.

Gilbert was backing up so fast at this point that his back met Matthew's knees, causing Matthew himself to crumple to the ground in front of the mess before them. His knees were drenched in blood just from touching the floor, but he couldn't find it in himself to scream. He was covered in so much blood and dirt from everything they had already been through that his skin would probably be stained with blood forever. Besides that, the blood was the last thing that Matthew and Gilbert needed to be concerned about.

Before them lay Roderich, or at least half of Roderich – his body was gone from the waist down. And, on the floor in front of him, there lay one of the infected, stomach full to the point of creating lesions on the tender skin and rendering it incapable of moving.

The infected creature that was still clearly digesting Roderich's legs was Elizaveta.

"Oh, god," Gilbert whispered though the fingers splayed over his open mouth, "I…"

"Gilbert," Matthew whispered harshly, praying that Gilbert would listen to him despite knowing that he had already lost him.

"Elizaveta," Gilbert whispered, taking to his knees and crawling toward her – it.

Matthew grabbed Gilbert by the shoulder so hard that he sent him sprawling backwards. Matthew knew that Elizaveta couldn't move in her current state, but Matthew knew that letting Gilbert anywhere near her would only cause more damage. Gilbert was already in a difficult mental state, the last thing he needed to see was this.

They should have just kept going.

"Gilbert, we need to go now," Matthew tried, gentler this time but still demanding.

When Gilbert didn't respond to him, revealed eye on the ceiling above, Matthew shook his shoulder, "Gilbert?"

He wasn't responding.

"Not now," Matthew thought as he dropped down next to him, "anything but now."

Matthew had initially thought that Gilbert's unresponsiveness was shock, however when he looked at his dilated pupils and the trembling of his lips, he realized that it was something else completely - something much worse than just shock. He knew it from when he was a child, as he had witnessed the same thing happening to one of his childhood friends in the middle of class.

It was what happened before someone had a seizure.

\--

"No one came," Antonio said, as if the others in the group hadn't figured that out by themselves.

"No," Feliciano said without missing a beat, "they just couldn't make it back in time, we just ne-"

"Feli," Lovino said, his face serious, "they aren't coming back."

"Don't say that," Feliciano said, no waver in his voice, "they couldn't have all…"

"They're dead." Lovino said, more harsh than necessary.

"Lovi," Antonio said, putting a hand on his shoulder delicately.

"What, it's true, Nazi bastard over there even said so himself," Lovino said, mocking Ludwig, "'we have to prepare ourselves for the worst'. I did, and the worst happened. I'm fine now."

Antonio, Lovino and Feliciano argued for some time on the matter, however their voices never escalated beyond that of harsh whispers. Even Lovino, who was often brash and loud was learning to control the level of his voice in these situations. However, Ludwig never joined in on the discussion, he just kept looking at the mall, as if he were expecting someone to emerge at any moment.

"We're already way past the time we were supposed to leave, and all the cars are still here. It looks like the worst possible thing happened, now let's go before the same thing happens to us too."

Lovino didn't miss the way Ludwig clenched his fists at these words.

He knew it. He knew that the German bastard was going to freak out at the fact that his idiotic brother hadn't made it out with them.

"Something happened in there," Ludwig said, "there were so many gunshots, and we all agreed that we wouldn't use guns unless absolutely necessary because of the sound."

"And?" Lovino asked, motioning for Ludwig to continue despite the man having his back facing toward him.

"And we didn't have exceptionally high powered guns, but I heard multiple rounds going off in seconds at one point. We didn't have any guns like that."

Lovino snorted, "you think someone else was in there with us?"

"I don't know," Ludwig said, "but I think that we need to wai-"

"No," Lovino said, finally raising his voice, "we already agreed on this time, and we already agreed that we would leave even if no one was back. That's just how it works, and if we plan on finding adequate shelter before night time, we need to damn well leave right now. We're not waiting for your stupid brother to come back."

"Lovi," Feliciano said, voice dull, "stop it."

"You know it too. Feliciano, Antonio, you both know this, right?"

Feliciano and Antonio didn't answer him, indicating that they were beginning to think along the same lines as what Lovino was. They were finally being realistic about the situation they were in. They needed to leave.

"It's not like we're leaving them with nothing if they get out of there," Lovino said, "there's still working cars with supplies loaded into them, and they have their guns. We can also always leave a note for them."

Lovino scowled when he saw Ludwig shaking his head.

"You and that stupid idiot argued so much about how you would be good leaders, but you're turning out to be the most unreliable people I've ever met. Not only do you both have serious brother complexes, but the only real thing you're good at is brute work like breaking windows and lifting heavy things," Lovino spit out at Ludwig.

Antonio and Feliciano looked like they wanted to intervene, but they were too tired to even consider it at this point. They also wouldn't admit that they knew Ludwig needed to hear this, however their way of telling him that they needed to go would have been much gentler than the way Lovino was saying it to him. But, it was arguable that he needed to hear it in the most harsh way possible, and Lovino was the only one who could deliver.

"So move that stubborn ass of yours. And if your brother if half as stubborn as you are, he'll come out of there eventually."

"Exactly," Ludwig said, still not turning away from the front of the building, "he'll come out of there eventually."

Lovino sighed and slapped a palm to the middle of his face, hard enough to hear it ringing through the empty, silent parking lot.

"Not only that, but if you really did hear other people with bigger weaponry, don't you think it's a good idea that we leave now while we still have time?"

"Let's wait a litt-"

"Lov-!" Feliciano didn't even get a chance to issue the warning before Lovino stalked up behind Ludwig and punched his jaw with as much force as he could muster from his still weak and healing body.

Ludwig fell to the ground, holding his jaw where Lovino had hit him.

"We're leaving," Lovino said, "so you get the fuck up off the ground, and you get in the god damn car before I drag you in by your god damn balls."

"Lovino," Feliciano said, grabbing hold of his brother's arms to prevent him from hitting Ludwig again. It was pointless of him to do so, however, because Lovino wasn't going to hit Ludwig again. That was the only warning he was going to give him.

Ludwig finally looked away from the building and up at Antonio, Feliciano and Lovino who were currently crowding around him, his eyes saying everything.

It made sense, really, because if it had been Feliciano still in that building, he probably would have tried to go looking for his brother, and he probably would have held the group back by telling them to wait. He couldn't really judge how he would have reacted – he may have even stayed behind to look for him inside the mall all alone.

The only difference between Ludwig and Lovino at this point was the fact that Lovino had a weak brother, who probably couldn't fend for himself, but Ludwig had a strong brother, who was more than capable of taking care of himself - and others - in such a harsh and unforgiving environment.

"What's that?" Feliciano questioned from behind them, causing Lovino to finally break his intense eye contact with Ludwig.

Lovino turned around and looked, but didn't see anything, however after a few seconds, he felt something.

The ground was shaking.

"An earthquake?" Antonio pondered, however by the looks of the way his shoulders were tensed, he was expecting something much more destructive than just an earthquake.

Natural disasters would have been a relief for them.

"Is it them?" Feliciano asked, unable to use the name they had dubbed the creatures with.

"It can't be," Lovino said, keeping his eyes trained on the horizon, "they wouldn't be making so much noise, no matter how many of them there were. Not to mention the fact that they try to avoid sunlight at all costs."

They stood in terrified silence, unable to move from their respective spots as they waited to see what the increasingly loud banging was coming from.

They didn't expect the monstrosity they saw crossing over the horizon.

What was coming toward them surprised them to the point of causing all of them to run to the car at a blinding speed, even Ludwig himself snapped out of his daze and threw himself into the driver's side of the car out of pure fear.

"What the fuck is that thing?" Lovino said breathlessly despite only having run a few feet to the car. His heart was beating so fast that it felt like he would throw up due to it causing his throat to clench up painfully. Neither of them turned around to look – too scared to face the creature they had just seen again. They wanted to pretend that they hadn't seen it.

Ludwig furiously turned the key in the ignition, but the engine only sputtered in response to the key being turned.

"Are you fucking serious?" Lovino asked from behind, leaning over Ludwig's seat as if his cursing would help their situation. "Right now? This piece of junk is going to do this to us right now?"

"Let's get in the next car," Ludwig said without missing a beat, and whether his voice was shaking from the ground trembling so hard or because he was scared was to question.

None of them argued, and despite the fear of the encroaching danger, they filed out of the car quickly and ran to the next car, throwing themselves in, and this time Antonio was in the driver's seat.

Maybe it was because Ludwig was being too vicious with the keys beforehand, but the keys turned in the ignition and the engine roared for Antonio without any problems. However, before Lovino could even get his door closed, one of the infected made it into the car.

Antonio started driving despite this, knowing that the others would catch up if they didn't, and tried to remain calm as Feliciano screamed as he tried to get the creature off of his brother. Ludwig was in the front, but because of the seat, he didn't have much room to help.

He could only watch.

Antonio felt the car become lighter, and before he even had time to process it, the back of the car was being lifted by the creature they were so frightened of. In fact, they were still so frightened that they didn't dare looking at it even as it began lifting the car off of the ground. Antonio just revved the engine, hoping that they would get out of its grip.

What he didn't expect was for the massive creature to drop the car just as soon as it had picked it up, sending the car speeding forward and throwing the two brothers in the back seat over onto the floor.

There was a sharp scream, and Antonio watched as the infected finally rolled out of the back from the impact. However, judging by the sounds coming from the back seat, there was still something wrong.

Antonio turned around to see what had happened, and he was met with an eyeful of Lovino with his side covered in blood and a clear bite mark marring the pale flesh on his neck.

Feliciano screamed until his throat grew hoarse and no sound was coming out.

Antonio was lost for what to do, he wanted to scream just like Feliciano was, but they needed to keep the car moving. His only problem was that they needed to get back to Lovino to stop the bleeding. He was already weak, and possibly anaemic, he would go into shock much sooner than an average person would.

"Feliciano," Antonio said seriously, "if you don't want Lovino to bleed out, take your shirt off and put pressure on the wound. It's shallow, so he should be OK when the bleeding stops."

Antonio could barely hear the sound of the infected running behind them due to the sound of his heart pounding furiously in his ears. He tried not to think about the fact that Lovino had just been bitten, and decided to focus on the current problem: the bleeding.

He would think of something to save him – anything.

"He'll be OK," Antonio assured – more himself than anyone else in the car.

After working so hard to save Lovino in the hospital, he wasn't going to let him die from something so cruel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, you guys must hate me.
> 
> Let me quote myself from the 23rd chapter here: "Things should be back to normal starting today, and I'm not just blowing that out to tide you guys over, I promise!" Haha, oh, looking at that makes me cringe so hard my teeth are cracking. It's been about 5 months, so yeah. Things obviously didn't get back to normal. There's also the fact that I got distracted by another multi-chapter fic that I started, but that's all done now!
> 
> So, I wrote this extra-long chapter for you guys, and I'm not going to promise any quick updates! HOWEVER! I do have most of the story finished because I wanted to ensure that I would have material in case I didn't have any time to write.
> 
> *SIGH* this is a really long authors note but there's a lot that needs to be said. The main character of this story was supposed to be Lovino all along, but I reread all of my work over the weekend and I realized that I haven't been doing a good job of making that clear. So, the story is now going to focus MAINLY on Lovino (Ludwig's group plays a key part as well). There will be less "screen time" I guess you could call it for the others, however their arcs will still be explored. This fic ran WAY longer than it should have, but it's just so fun writing for the other guys!
> 
> As always, thank you guys for reading!


	25. Conquest

Matthew didn't know what to do in this kind of situation, and that was precisely the reason why Gilbert should have been placed under Antonio's care rather than his. He was in law school, and was by no means a trained medical student. All he could do was watch in horror as Gilbert's eyes rolled back in his head, and his limbs started to tremble. He knew Antonio had told him what to do, but due to the amount of adrenaline and panic pumping through his veins he couldn't muster a clear thought. Everything he heard and saw became distorted, white noise.

However, despite the steadily rising panic, Matthew closed his eyes and took in two steadying breaths of air.

"One minute, the seizure shouldn't last anywhere longer than a minute," Matthew finally said to himself, conjuring up Antonio's words. He opened his eyes just as Gilbert's body succumbed to the seizure and began counting down the seconds as calmly as possible.

"Roll them onto their side, don't hold them down," Matthew whispered, rolling Gilbert over onto his side and using as little contact as possible despite how heavy the need to do so was.

"Check breathing," Matthew began listing these instructions off in his head, leaning his head over Gilbert's mouth to feel a soft – albeit weak – puff of air spilling from between his tightly sealed lips.

90 seconds, and the seizure wasn't showing any signs of stopping. Matthew felt the panic rising, the urge to cry, but he tried to calm himself by going over the steps over and over again in his mind.

"Something to cushion their head," Matthew thought as he reached for his duffle, pulling out a towel that had been taken from the old hotel and bundling it up. He put it under Gilbert's head as gently as possible.

140 seconds.

Gilbert suddenly went lax, and Matthew simultaneously felt panic and relief flood through his being. Relieved that the seizure had stopped, however panicked that Gilbert had stopped moving so violently, and that the seizure had lasted for so long.

"Gilbert?" Matthew questioned, putting a hand to his lips to check his breath. Matthew sighed in relief when he felt a warm puff of air against his fingertips, and fell back onto his backside despite himself.

Gilbert's eyes opened and he regarded Matthew with a look of confusion.

'Comfort them and explain to them what happened,' that was the last thing that Antonio had told Matthew to do.

"It's OK," Matthew said as he crawled back over to Gilbert's side on weak knees. He rested a hand against the undamaged side of Gilbert's head. "You had a seizure, but you're OK."

Gilbert still looked confused, but he seemed to be taking the words in as he nodded his head absently at Matthew's words. However, Matthew felt more fear rise in his chest when Gilbert silently got to his feet when the confused haze left, and started back toward Elizaveta and Roderich's corpses.

"No," Matthew said, grabbing his shoulder with as much force as he could to prevent him from turning around, "don't look."

Gilbert focused a look on Matthew that was so strange even Matthew couldn't tell what it was or what it meant. He looked confused and hurt, but most of all, he looked enamoured. However, what Matthew did know was that it had stopped Gilbert from turning around, and that was all that matter to him at the moment. Instead of going to the broken corpses at the outlet, Gilbert knelt down beside his duffle bag, picked it up and began walking toward the other exit of the building.

Matthew followed close behind.

\--

They reached the parking lot without any serious problems on this run, however they were way behind on time. One car was already missing, but it was unclear who had made it out or not. The two other remaining cars in the lot were indicative of the fact that not many of them had made it out of the mall alive.  
The mall was the greatest mistake they had made.

"Fuck," Gilbert finally spoke up, a loud curse that rang through the empty parking lot. He slammed his fist against the side of the car repeatedly until there was a large dent in the side. They probably wouldn't be able to open the back door ever again. Not that it mattered; it was only the two of them now.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Gilbert chanted, dropping to the ground and cradling his freshly bleeding head in his grimy hands.

Matthew could only stand in front of him in complete silence. He didn't know what to say. He didn't think he could say anything. He was currently feeling the same as Gilbert, there was no way of comforting him if he himself was feeling just as lost.

Defeated, tired, sad, angry, worthless, hopeless. There were no words to describe the feelings coursing through them, all of them too terrible to put into words.  
After Gilbert's cursing fit subsided, Matthew made his way over to the car and took a seat beside him on the cold ground. It was almost silent outside, and the day would have been beautiful if the infected weren't roaming around the streets idly at every corner. Even the scent that carried on the light breeze smelled beautiful. None of this was right. This wasn't what the end of the world was supposed to look like, it was too cruel. A constant reminder of the way things used to be.

"We should go," Matthew said, finally breaking the rare peaceful silence.

"Where," Gilbert asked, more of rhetorical question than anything. They didn't have anywhere to go, they just kept moving from place to place in hopes of finding a brief refuge. The hotel was as good as it would get for them, and the chance of them finding a place like that again were slim to none.

Nothing good lasted anymore.

"I don't know," Matthew said, "but right now, I think we should just find a safe place to sleep and think things through. We're way too tired to be making any big decisions about what to do tonight."

Gilbert laughed humourlessly, running his right hand through his blood and sweat matted hair, "Matthew, I don't even know if I'll make it through the night."  
Matthew looked up from the ground, eyes meeting Gilbert's uncovered, pink orbs, "Don't say stuff like that, you don't know that."

"I just had a seizure, Matthew," Gilbert said, "that coupled with a major and un-healing head wound is not a sign in my favour. I can smell an infection starting."  
Matthew didn't know what to say to that, he could only stand up from the ground and make his way to the driver's side of the car. Gilbert followed his lead and stood up, gently setting himself in the passenger's side and cringing when the car was jostled at Matthew's movements.

His head injury was bad, Matthew knew that. He just didn't want to acknowledge it.

Matthew started the car and began driving.

"When we find a place to stop I'll clean your bandages," Matthew said without taking his eyes off of the road. "Your wounds aren't that bad, it's just the bandages making them look that way, and the smell is probably just from the old blood." Matthew couldn't tell if he was reassuring Gilbert, or if he was just making a weak attempt at reassuring himself about it.

Gilbert only nodded his head at him. He didn't believe the words coming out of Matthew's mouth, it was obvious by his look. He was just humouring him.

\--

They found a decent, fairly safe looking 3 story house on their way up the road, and the fact that it was in a somewhat secluded area only made them feel better. It would have been better if it had been gated, but that kind of luxury wouldn't come easily.

When they got out of the car they grabbed their duffle bags and slung them over their shoulder, keeping their guns close to their sides and their fingers ready to pull the triggers as they entered the silent estate. However, there were no cars in the driveway so it was safe to say that there were no people currently inside the house.

Gilbert entered first despite Matthew's quiet protests, carefully looking around the first floor.

Nothing.

Gilbert indicated with his gun that he was about to go to the second floor, and Matthew followed behind wordlessly, keeping alert about what was behind him. They had checked the first floor thoroughly, but stranger things had happened to them before.

Gilbert led Matthew around room by room, nerves strung up and adrenaline pumping like nothing before.

The second floor was clear, every nook and cranny explored carefully.

The third floor was the most worrisome despite the fact that it was the least likely to harbour any of the infected. Matthew felt that this was something that was too good to be true. However, having explored the third floor thoroughly, there was nothing. The house was completely bare, and there were no infected as far as the eye could see from where they were. There was a lot of tree cover as well, so sound wouldn't carry as far and smells would be dissipated by the heavy, and incredibly strong scent of pine.

It was as safe as they would get.

Matthew sat down on the edge of what could only be the master bed, and took his boots over to reveal his incredibly blistered and bloodied feet. He hadn't even truly noticed the pain until now.

"Come with me," Gilbert said as he finally returned to the room, "we'll board up the windows."

Matthew stood up from the bed, cringing when the blisters on his feet reopened.

"There were a bunch of candles downstairs, we can light them when it gets dark as long as the windows are boarded well."

Matthew nodded his head and followed behind Gilbert.

It had been hard to find adequate supplies to board up the windows; however they had quickly realized that the cupboards we're more than big enough to cover them, so they had settled for those in the end. They had worked better than the extra wood they had found lying around inside the garage.

The sun had long since gone down when they were finished with the upstairs, and when everything was boarded up neatly, Matthew was finally able to take a shower as Gilbert collected the candle downstairs. The hydro was still working for the time being, and Matthew planned on taking full advantage of it.

When he finished, he then lit a multitude of candles around the room until there was a decent enough glow to allow him to see. He listened closely to the sound of Gilbert showering, worried that he may fall or go into another seizure. But, Matthew was lucky, and sighed in relief when he heard the sound of Gilbert turning off the taps. And, when Gilbert came out of the shower, he looked a lot less worse for wear then he did upon leaving the mall. It helped Matthew calm down, if only slightly.

"Come here," Matthew said, motioning for Gilbert to sit down beside him on the bed. Matthew had a first aid kit and its supplies ready to go.

Matthew gently peeled off the wet bandages over Gilbert's eye and laid them down on the opposite side of him. He didn't want Gilbert to see all the blood on them. Matthew was shocked by what he saw under the bandages.

"What," Gilbert said, becoming curious at Matthew's silence, "is it really that bad?"

"No," Matthew said with a quick shake of his head, "it's healing."

"Mattie," Gilbert said with a sigh, "please stop trying to make me feel better."

"No, really," Matthew said, grabbing Gilbert's arm so he was standing in front of the large vanity in the room. "It's still not in the best shape, but it's getting better."

Gilbert looked at himself in the mirror, and turned his head so he could see the wound better. It wasn't bleeding anymore, and the wound had finally crusted over. The area around the wound was deep red, but it didn't mean infection. That was all that mattered.

Gilbert looked back at Matthew, ready to thank him. However, when he looked back at him, he felt an unbelievable urge that even he was surprised at.  
After having showered and without the panicked look on his face, Matthew truly was a beautiful person, both physically and emotionally. Bright and doleful blue eyes, silky blonde hair and soft pale skin. Gilbert couldn't have kept his hands off of him even if he wanted to. He leaned in without a second of hesitation and locked lips with the shorter man.

He didn't know if it was the adrenaline that had caused him to make such a rash decision, but it didn't matter because Matthew responded with the same amount of enthusiasm as he had. Kissing him until his face was turning red from lack of air. Had it not been for the basic need of oxygen, Matthew nor Gilbert would have pulled away from each other for the rest of the night.

They didn't even have to exchange words to know what the other was thinking, and with a quick nod of approval from Matthew, Gilbert began taking off his clothes and discarding them carelessly on the cold, wooden floor. There was nothing incredibly intimate about the way Gilbert was treating Matthew, and he himself would have liked to treat him with more care, but they just didn't have the time for those small luxuries. This was as good as they were going to have it. In another world, Gilbert thinks that, had he met Matthew, things may have turned out completely differently for them.

He still loved Elizaveta, but he loved Matthew too.

No words were exchanged as Gilbert pushed Matthew down onto the plush covered bed, taking off his last article of clothing. After taking him in, he himself carelessly discarded the towel around his waist, dropping it onto the floor beside the bed. He'd done this so many times that he no longer truly had the decency to be embarrassed about being completely exposed in front of someone. However, Matthew, the normally timid and shy young man, didn't seem all that fazed by him exposing himself either.

Gilbert crawled on top of Matthew, and in doing so pressed his lips into the junction between Matthew's shoulder and neck. Gilbert took the skin between his teeth and bit, not hard enough to break the skin but enough to hurt and leave a deep bruise. He wanted to know how far he could push Matthew, and by the broken breath he let out, Gilbert knew that he understood Gilbert, and wanted the same thing as he did.

Both Gilbert and Matthew didn't want it like this. They needed it like this.

Gilbert pressed his lips to Matthew's own, but instead of the questioning gentleness behind his actions before, the kisses were harsh and greedy; to which Matthew did not protest. Instead, he responded in kind.

Gilbert was normally reserved about the fact that he was well experienced where sex was concerned, as it had destroyed many of his relationships. This had initially lead to Gilbert acting reserved and timid with a lover, but with Matthew it didn't matter because Matthew didn't care. Matthew knew full well about his past, and yet he wasn't shying away from him or judging him about it. This is why, instead of dancing around the issue and pretending as if he didn't know what to do, Gilbert crawled down the bed and didn't hesitate when taking Matthew into his mouth.

Gilbert looked up through hooded lids to watch Matthew's reaction to what he had done, and was more than pleased to see Matthew with his head thrown back and his mouth wide in a breathless moan. Normally Gilbert may have pulled back, trying to take as much time as possible so as to make the client pay more. However, this wasn't a client, this was Matthew. He had chosen to do this on his own, and had he been given the chance he probably would have taken more time him. However, time did not permit him the luxury of taking it slow. So, Gilbert didn't move an inch after taking Matthew into his mouth, instead he swallowed around him and let go of Matthew's hips, letting him sink in as far into his mouth as he could. Considering Matthew's lack of experience, Gilbert knew that he wasn't going to last long, he didn't mind though. Gilbert flexed his throat and allowed Matthew to thrust his hips up into his throat until he came with a loud shout.

Gilbert swallowed without any hesitation, but before Gilbert could even look back up at Matthew, he was turning over onto his side and away from Gilbert. Gilbert was concerned about his behaviour at first, but he soon realized what was wrong by the way Matthew's neck and shoulders were flushed all the way up to his ears. Matthew was embarrassed.

Gilbert had long since ignored his own arousal at this point, realizing that Matthew probably couldn't handle any more than what had just happened.

However, Matthew spoke up, voice quiet and barely audible, "I – thanks, I can… I can take care of it for you too…"

Gilbert laughed quietly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to the notch in Matthew's spine, "it's fine, Pancakes."

Gilbert rolled onto his back, let out a contented sigh, and fell into a deep, peaceful sleep with Matthew's comfortable warmth at his side.

\--

"Let go," Kiku said in response to the look of terror Alfred was directing at him. He had been grabbed by one of the infected, and if Alfred didn't let go of him, they would all go down together.

Alfred kept running forward, as fast as he could with the added weight of the infected with the tight hold on Kiku's stained jacket. Alfred either didn't hear him properly, or he was choosing not to hear him – Kiku counted on it being the latter.

"Let go, Alfred," Kiku said, raising his voice so Alfred couldn't pretend that he hadn't heard him.

"No," Alfred said after a long pause, "not after all of this, I'm not letting go of you now." Alfred's grip on Kiku's hand became even tighter, and Kiku felt a pleasant numbness taking over his aching fingertips.

"We'll all die," Kiku said, "All of us, you, Arthur, and me."

Kiku could hear Alfred let out a sharp, keening sound of distress at the idea, and Kiku knew that he was finally considering what he had asked of him. Kiku was scared of what was to come, he was terrified, but he knew that this was the way that things were meant to be. He had met someone who had invoked feelings in him that he had never experienced before, and he had died right in front of him without any warning.

Kiku was going to be with him now, one way or another.

Kiku only noticed that he was crying when he felt warm, salty tears cutting tracks through his dirt-caked face and leaving a bitter, salty taste on his tongue, "please, Alfred, let me go."

Alfred gave one final, tight squeeze to Kiku's hand and then let his fingers slip free from his hold.

Kiku watched Alfred's retreating back as he fell to the ground with the infected on top of him.

\--

They had driven for a whole two hours, aimlessly driving into the city until they came upon an abandoned farm on a flat plain of land that would allow for them to easily see anything or anyone that would approach. Feliciano still hovered above his brother's unconscious form, holding his shirt to the wound on his neck despite the bleeding having stopped an hour before.

"I'll check the house with Feliciano," Ludwig said, motioning for Feliciano to get out of the van.

"No," Feliciano all but screamed at him, "I'm not leaving Lovi alone."

"Feliciano," Ludwig said, voice soft yet commanding, "let the nurse do his job, he knows what he's doing."

Feliciano looked down at his brother's still body once more, eyes wide as he analyzed his brother as if he would disappear at any moment. When he finally seemed to be satisfied, he leaned forward and kissed his brother's forehead before backing out of the car, his shirt that was sullied with his brother's blood still clasped tight between his thin fingers.

"I'll take care of your brother," Antonio said to Feliciano's retreating back, "I promise."

Feliciano didn't say anything as he followed Ludwig inside of the farm, his gait strange and unsteady.

When Feliciano and Ludwig finally disappeared from sight, Antonio finally let the smile he had been restlessly trying to hold fall from his face. The panic and dread he felt coursing through him was painting his face, making a sordid picture of what he thought would happen to Lovino.  
He had seen what had happened after his patients had been bitten.

The only thing keeping Antonio from panicking at this point was the fact that all of the patients that had been bitten hadn't turned immediately. In fact, Antonio hadn't even seen some of them turn. They had been gunned down by the soldiers before Antonio could even have a chance to gauge what, exactly, was happening to all of those that were bitten.

Antonio truly did not know what to do.

The bleeding had stopped, Lovino's breathing was normal; there was nothing he could now but watch and wait.

Wait, and hope that when Lovino woke up, he wouldn't be trying to rip his throat out with his teeth.

Antonio waited patiently for Feliciano and Ludwig to scope out the barn, making sure that no infected remained. He spent his time watching the road and the steadily dimming sky, idly running his hands through Lovino's silky auburn hair. He hadn't had time to truly enjoy the quiet until now, revelling in the fresh breeze that the silent wind carried with it. It was chilly, but it was better than the clammy, dead heat that had occupied the mall. He would take the cold over that any day.

"Antonio?"

Antonio craned his neck to look back at Feliciano, who was standing only a few feet away from him. Even with the loose gravel underneath them, he hadn't heard him getting so close to him. He needed to pay closer attention to his surroundings.

Feliciano silently walked up next to Antonio, taking a seat on the opposite side of Lovino, who was still lying unconscious.

"He was bitten," Feliciano said, not a question but a statement. "My brother is going to turn into one of those things, isn't he?"

Antonio sighed, "I don't know, Feli, I really don't. I've seen it happen, but I don't know if everyone turns. I'm not going to lie to you."

Antonio didn't see, but rather heard Feliciano standing up again. He listened to the sound of his retreating steps, his feet crunching the gravel underneath him, for what felt like hours, until they stopped dead. Antonio turned to see what had happened, and was met with Feliciano, smiling widely back at him. Antonio felt a pang of terror rip through him. Feliciano's sanity was deteriorating.

"Bring him inside," Feliciano whispered through the false smile on his face, "he'll catch a cold out here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear God, I am finally back! Uni is really sucking the life out of me, let me tell you! Not to mention I detest my roommates. These two girls throw so many damn parties without any warning that I can never get any free time without people yelling all around me >.>. But, classes are done and I only have 3 finals to do. I'm no longer frosh after next week! :D I've truly been going through a very serious bout of insomnia and depression, but things are finally starting to really look up for me. I'll start trying to get back on my normal schedule from here on out. Don't give up on me, because I promise never to give up on this fic! 
> 
> From here on out, this fic is getting REAL. A lot of things are coming to a head, and in the next chapter or two I'm going to be introducing the "Big bad(s)". The real villains of this story. I will also be explaining their motives and intentions for a certain member of the group. 
> 
> I love you guys, thank you for the encouraging comments and waiting for so long :') !


	26. Ashes, Ashes

"We don't need these ones, Big brother, that's the problem."

"Natalia, you told me yourself that one of them was enough…"

"I meant one specific one! And out of all the ones we snatched, we missed the one we needed the most."

"What's the difference?"

"There's a big difference, brother, the President told you himself, did he not?"

"How were any of us supposed to know that he wasn't with them? It was dark outside, we couldn't see anything, and we're not too sure what this man looks like considering the picture we were shown was of when he was a child. We weren't even told he was a grown man until now."

Tino could hear this argument as clear as day, however his eyelids were too heavy for him to care. He didn't know where he was, all he knew was that he was lying in a warm bed, and that the air didn't smell like rotting flesh for once. So, instead of getting out of bed like he should have, he laid down and listened to the argument carry on. It was a man and woman, but Tino felt the presence of a third person in the room as well. He could see they're shadow standing stiffly at the side of the taller man.

"You're overreacting, Natalia, we still have time," the third voice finally chimed in. Soft and elegant - controlled compared to the other two.

"You butt out of this, this has nothing to do with you."

"It has everything to do with me, I was entrusted with this task just as you were."

"I pull rank over the both of you," the female in the room quipped.

The room grew silent, and finally Tino realized what was happening. These voices belonged to strangers, strangers that had kidnapped him, Berwald, his cousins, and even Peter.

Tino shot up straight in the bed, not even bothering trying to pretend to sleep. He looked around the room frantically, praying that Peter would be with him. When he didn't spot him, he internally sighed. He should have known better than to believe that these people would have left him. They had even shot Mathias, and he had no way of knowing if he was alive or not.

Tino cradled his head in his hands, and when he looked up, he finally realized how dire his situation truly was.

The room he was in was unbearably white, even more so than that of a hospital. The floor gleamed as though it had been freshly polished, and white sheets hung from the walls, giving it the appearance of a crime scene. However, the most disturbing part of this was the fact that Tino was inside a cell, covered with glass that he had a feeling was impenetrable. He didn't know where he was. After some thought, however, he immediately knew that he was inside a center for disease control, indicative of the white paint.

Only then did Tino realize that the voices had become silent. Tino looked away from the pearly white walls, only to realize that all eyes were now on him.

"So you've woken up," the woman in the room said, her eyes dark and intimidating. Though she was small in stature, her presence alone was terrifying and intense in ways Tino couldn't quite explain. The other two men also looked dangerous, properly dressed in military garb with completely blank expressions on their faces. What he couldn't miss, though, was the fact that both of the men were wearing different military uniforms. Most notable, however, was the fact that they were both Russian and Chinese uniforms, two communist countries that were known to be on bad grounds with almost the whole of North America.

Tino knew, just from looking at these uniforms, that he was not in a good position. And, judging by the way he was being treated, he didn't think that these people were sent out as emergency military support. The dark side of Tino's mind told him that they were most likely out to finish the job – wipe out the rest of the North Americans that had somehow missed being taken out by their biological warfare.

Tino opened his mouth, about to ask what they were going to do to him, but was stopped when the taller, stoic man in the Russian uniform finally spoke.

"Did you have a man in your little group named 'Lovino'?"

\--

Lovino had finally woken up after 2 hours. He hadn't turned, but things were looking more and more sordid as the minutes passed.

When Lovino had opened his eyes, instead of the honey coloured orbs that usually peeked out from under his lids, they were met with dark brown eyes speckled with flecks of red. Black circles appeared under his eyes, and odd bruises appeared on the thinnest parts of his body.

He was showing the signs of early decomposition.

The hardest part about the whole ordeal, according to Antonio, was telling Lovino what had happened without breaking down into tears. It was difficult; however it didn't take much for Lovino to understand that he wasn't going to survive the bite. He wasn't blind. He saw the bruises on his body, and felt himself becoming weaker and weaker by the minute.

"So I'm going to turn in-" Lovino swallowed thickly. "I'm going to turn into one of those things now, aren't I?"

Antonio had a hard time meeting his eyes, eyes that had been so full of life not even hours before. Already they looked glassy and tired, like one of the cadavers that he had worked on when in Medical school. He found it hard to look at.

It wasn't fair, it wasn't fair that Lovino had escaped death only to be met with an even more terrible ending.

"I don't know," Antonio said truthfully.

"Antonio," Lovino said, fear tingeing his voice, "I can already feel it."

"Lovi," Feliciano started from where he was sitting stiffly at his side, hands reaching out as though he could somehow fix what was happening to Lovino with a simple touch.

"As soon as my heart stops beating, don't hesitate to shoot me, "Lovino said siffly. "Please, promise me that. I don't want to put anyone else in this position too."

"Ok," Antonio said, "I promise."

Feliciano stood up, trudging over to Antonio so fast that no one in the room had any time to react. Feliciano surprised everyone even further when he punched Antonio so hard that he fell off of the stool that he was sitting on. Antonio fell to the ground on his behind, and the stool fell over with him, grinding against the old wooden boards. Feliciano, on the other hand, stood above him with his fists clenched at his sides as if he was challenging Antonio to get up and fight back.

"How could you," Feliciano asked, lips turned down in a scowl. "What kind of nurse are you, that you would give up so easily on someone's life?"

Antonio kept eye contact with Feliciano, refusing to look away despite how desperately he wanted to. He felt shame thick in his throat, and he was unable to swallow it down with his pride.

"Isn't it the job of a nurse to comfort their patient and keep them healthy for as long as possible? Isn't it the job of a nurse to monitor and ensure the patient that they're going to be fine?" Feliciano all but yelled this, and no one in the room challenged him. They were all too surprised by his outburst to say anything to him.

Calm, pleasant, simple Feliciano had just hit a man and was now standing him down, yelling in his face like it was something he did everyday. His fine, doughy features were now rough and unpleasant, his brows furrowed and his lips turned down in a scowl. This was not the Feliciano that anyone knew, this was someone else entirely.

After a long moment of silence with nothing but the wind breathing through the cracks in the house, Antonio finally spoke.

"Yes, Feliciano, that is the job of a nurse. You're not wrong."

"Then why are you acting like this," Feliciano asked, shaking his head, "you're acting like he's already dead!"

"I'm comforting him, I'm doing my j-"

"You just agreed to shoot him like an animal," Feliciano cried, leaning over to get into Antonio's face. "How is that supposed to be comforting, Antonio?"

"Feliciano," Lovino said from behind them, "stop it."

Feliciano fists unclenched, but he still didn't break eye contact with Antonio. Lovino's voice alone had been enough to break his concentration, enough to bring him back to his old self.

"He's comforting me more than you are right now, sitting by my side and promising me that I'll be fine. I'm not fine, and I know it. Being fed bullshit isn't helping me at all, right now."

Feliciano turned to look at Lovino, eyes wide and hurt. His hands fell to sides limply and his features softened. It was difficult to believe that he had done something so violent.

"All I need right now is my little brother, not this. This is something I never wanted you to become."

Feliciano dropped to his knees at his brothers' bedside, head lowered, "I'm sorry, Lovi, I'm so sorry."

"It's fine, stupid, just don't do stuff like that anymore. I've never seen you act like that, and I don't like it. Where's my cute, stupid little brother when I need him the most?" Lovino smiled as he pet his brother's silky hair that was so similar to his own.

There was a heavy silence for a moment, but Lovino broke it when he locked eyes with his younger brother. "Can you leave me alone with Antonio for a little while, Feli?"

Feliciano looked worried, but he stood up despite himself and followed Ludwig out of the room in silence, sparing one last glance at Antonio and Lovino.

After the door had been closed behind Ludwig and Feliciano, and he could hear their footsteps a safe distance away, he finally turned to look at Antonio. He hadn't moved from the floor, but his eyes were studying the floorboards as if he wanted them to swallow him whole.

Lovino cocked his head to get Antonio's attention and patted the empty space on the bed next to him, indicating for him to come and sit with him.

Antonio complied, but he looked a little reluctant to do so. It seemed like Feliciano's words had struck a chord with him despite how adamant he was about doing the right thing.

"Feliciano is very protective of me," Lovino started as soon as he felt the bed dip beside him "as I am of him."

Antonio didn't speak, letting Lovino get everything out.

"I probably would have reacted the same way if I were in his position," Lovino said, letting out a fond sigh.

"I know," Antonio said.

"Will you take care of him like you've taken care of me when I'm gone?" Lovino asked, and despite the light leaving him Antonio couldn't help the urge to touch, reaching out one hand and brushing a stray hair out of Lovino's face like he had when he first saw him at the hospital.

"Yes, of course," Antonio said with a sad smile.

"I'm worried about him," Lovino said sullenly. "I've never seen him get like that, and I'm worried that with my death, it will push him over the edge. He's been through too much, and part of it was my fault."

"I promise to protect him," Antonio said, "and I know Ludwig will too."

Lovino still let out a huff of air at the mention of his name despite how tired he looked. "Well, if he doesn't take care of him, you can damn well bet that I'll haunt his ass forever. Yours too, dirty nurse."

Antonio let out a small chuckle, "I know you will."

Lovino let out a small sigh and looked outside of the window beside his bed, down at the field that was illuminated by the brilliant moon. The silence wasn't uncomfortable, but Antonio didn't want to spend these last few moments with Lovino like this.

"Do you miss Italy?"

Lovino laughed bitterly, "of course. If I were to die somewhere, I would choose my home over all. This is probably the last place I would have chosen to die. In a random farm in the United States."

Antonio nodded, "I would like to be back in Spain too, even though I only spent a small bit of my childhood there. I still remember a lot."

"We're lucky we made it this far though, you know," Lovino said with a quirk of his brow. "At least this time I'll have a chance to say a proper goodbye to my stupid little brother. That's a godsend, if anything.

"You're right," Antonio said.

"It could have been worse," Lovino said with a shrug of his shoulders, as if he were talking about something as little as getting a needle or skinning his knees.

"I'm going to call Feliciano back in here in a minute, but Lovi, could I ask one more thing of you?"

Lovino looked up at Antonio with his head cocked, and for a moment Antonio could swear that some of the colour was coming back to his eyes, but he knew it could be nothing more than the light of the moon playing tricks on him, or perhaps his own imagination.

"I guess," Lovino said, "I kind of owe you, considering you've saved my life so many times. What is it?"

"A kiss."

There was a heavy silence in the room at this suggestion, however, Lovino did not look upset or disturbed by what Antonio had said. Instead, Lovino nodded his head slowly, leaning his body into Antonio's warmth, surprising both of them.

Antonio laced his fingers through Lovino's soft hair, and noted that Lovino's body was still warm despite his bodily functions slowly shutting down. His lips were just as warm and soft as he had imagined, and his hair was still as silky as Antonio had remembered it from the first time he had seen him lying in that lonely, unmarked hospital bed.

Antonio didn't want to let go, because he figured that the next time he touched Lovino, he would be cold and unmoving.

Antonio wished he could kiss Lovino forever, but he knew his time was up when he heard footsteps coming down the hall. Feliciano came into the room with a worried look on his face, and Antonio pulled away quickly, marking Lovino's flushed features so he could tuck them away in his memory forever.

Feliciano seemed unaware of what was going on, but Ludwig seemed embarrassed, looking anywhere but at Lovino or Antonio.

That night, Antonio laid awake, recalling all of the memories that he had of Lovino, both good and bad, in the hopes of being able to keep them for as long as he lived.

It was dawn by the time Antonio fell asleep, and both he and Feliciano had their heads cushioned on Lovino's shallowly heaving chest. They would have told anyone that it was a show of affection – and it was – but they were also waiting for the moment that his heart stopped beating.

\--

"Alfred, stop," Arthur whispered harshly over Alfred's shoulders, the steady run he was going at jostling him around uncomfortably on his back.

Alfred didn't listen to him, or rather, didn't want to listen to him and kept running forward – aimlessly into the steadily rising sun's beams. Arthur was familiar with this side of Alfred, constantly running away from all of his problems in hopes that they would disappear the further he ran.

"Alfred," Arthur knew that he wouldn't stop for him - or rather that he couldn't hear him - so he mustered all of his strength and used one of his dangling legs to trip Alfred.

They went down heavy, and Arthur tumbled forward a few feet after Alfred himself fell, but it didn't matter. He needed to get Alfred to snap out of it before he ran them straight into another problem.

Arthur sat up and brushed the dirt away from where he had hit the floor, and when he turned to look at Alfred, he was still lying on the cold ground in the same position that he had fallen in. At first, Arthur was worried that he was actually hurt, but after a few moments of silence, he realized that he was crying. His shoulders were trembling, and the smallest whimper would escape his lips every few seconds.

Arthur crawled over on weak knees, all of the fight having left him as soon as they had left Sadiq for dead. Instead of cursing Alfred out like he had intended, he crawled up next to him, cradled Alfred's head in his lap, and tried his best to soothe him as he ran his fingers through his hair.

Arthur wasn't the best at soothing, but he had become quite adept when it had come to making his younger brother happy. Though he tried to avoid handling his younger brother as much as possible, it didn't mean he was afraid to stroke his hair and whisper to him when he was having fussy nights while his parents were away.

Alfred was in no way a baby, but Arthur knew that everyone needed the same treatment every now and again.

"It's OK," Arthur said, brushing the sweat matter hair out of Alfred's eyes. The left lens of his glasses had a very prominent crack in them, but he otherwise seemed unharmed. "Everything's OK now, we got away, and Kiku's in a better place. OK?"

Alfred, of course, didn't respond with much, but a louder sob escaped the confines of his throat. Tears were streaming down his face like small waterfalls, and his cheeks and eyes were red and puffy from holding them in for so long. And, by the looks of things, Alfred had been holding them in for a very long time.

"I couldn't do anything," Alfred babbled helplessly. "I couldn't prote- I couldn't protect anyone. Everyone's gone now. Everyone's dead because I wasn't there for them."

"Don't say that," Arthur said, feeling a pang in his chest at the idea that all was lost. "We're going to see everyone again. Don't worry."

"You heard him," Alfred said, his breath was still hitching around every word, "there were more of those guys, just like that evil fuck in there, out to get everyone. There's no way…"

"Please," Arthur said, "just be quiet for a minute."

And, to Arthur's surprise, Alfred did as he told him. He closed his mouth, and laid there in complete silence, collecting himself as best as he could, given the circumstances.

"I understand why he did that," Alfred finally said about Kiku after a long bout of silence. "But it doesn't mean that I don't feel responsible. If I had come sooner, he probably wouldn't have had to make that decision."

"There's no way you could have known what was happening," Arthur said. "In fact, it's a miracle that you survived that fall. If you hadn't, both Kiku and I would have died," Arthur reminded him.

Alfred remained quiet after this.

"We should start heading out though, the rest of the group has probably already left, so we'll just have to try to catch up to them."

"OK," Alfred said, putting a brave face on, trying desperately to not think of the horrible things that could have happened to the rest of them group. He would no longer let anyone else die on his watch.

\--

"I told you, I don't even know who that is," Lukas dead panned at the woman in front of him. "I just met Tino and Berwald while we were in the mall, I didn't know anyone else out of his group."

"You're lying," the woman said, leaning down to grasp the man's chin in her long, elegant fingers. She looked so clean and collected that one would have thought she hadn't truly seen what was going on outside.

In fact, there was a strong possibility that that was the case.

"Why would I lie about that?"

The woman laughed raucously, "to make yourself look noble, perhaps? You're afraid of what we'll do to your little friend? I don't know, anything's plausible at this point."

"Why didn't you kidnap him in the first place, why did you take us?" Lukas strained against the binds around his wrists, but stopped when he deemed the action fruitless.

The woman sighed, "it was dark outside, and we were under the impression that we were looking for a baby."

Lukas failed to fight off a lopsided grin that split his face, "do you even know what this person looks like?"

The woman in front of him looked visibly upset, and Lukas braced himself for the harsh kick that she aimed at the centre of his face.

The long haired woman leaned down in front of him and grabbed him by the collar of his freshly blood speckled shirt, dragging him as far up as she could given the fact that his arms were still bound to the wall in his cell.

"You don't know anything, boy," she spat before promptly dropping him back onto the floor.

Lukas leaned over to spit out the blood that was beginning to fill his mouth. "Whoever is leading you people can't be very reliable, considering he doesn't even know what he's looking for," Lukas said at the woman's retreating back. "Tell me, does your boss even tell you why you're looking for this man?"

The woman stopped dead, hand reaching out for the door to Lukas' closed in cell. She turned around full body and started trudging toward Lukas, and when she raised her fist he was sure he would be hit again, and in anticipation of the collision he closed his eyes tight. However, the punch never came.

Lukas opened his eyes up to see a much taller man in uniform, standing behind her and holding her raised fist in just one of his own.

"Natalia, we shouldn't hit them," the man said, his voice surprisingly soft and gentle for his intimidating size and stature.

"Why," she asked, "it's not like we need them anyway, they're just in the way."

"If you hurt them too bad, then we'll never get the information we need out of them. Do you know how much trouble we'll be in if we ruin our chances?"

The woman named Natalia let out a frustrated huff and left the cell without another word, seemingly unwilling to go against the large man's words.

When nothing could be heard but her distant, retreating footsteps, the tall man with the white blonde hair hunkered down so he was eye level with Lukas.

"Are those other men related to you?"

Lukas glared as hard as he could into the man's face, "why do you care, you shot one of them anyway."

"He's fine now."

Lukas wanted to let out a sigh of relief after having finally heard the news, but he didn't want to show it in front of this man in fear of him using it against him in the future. He kept his face as blank as he normally did, completely unchanging despite the mood.

"Fine."

"Is that all you feel about your cousin," the man asked, no, chirruped.

"You know…"

"Of course I know who all of you are, we're with the military. Did you think that we wouldn't be able to get a hold of that information? It isn't hard, especially now that the president is dead."

The man stood up again, towering over Lukas' seated form.

"So, Lukas, tell me everything about yourself."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update, my friends, but I've just been incredibly lazy! Yup! Because all of the stress of my classes has been lifted off of my shoulders, I've just been sleeping and eating all day. But, I realize I shouldn't leave you guys hanging, so I'm coming back. I've gotten enough sleep to last me several months, and enough plot bunnies have come to mind to bring back my inspiration to finish this story.
> 
> I've seen one too many dropped fanfic due to lost motivation. I refuse to cave!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed guys, and prepare for the emotional roller coaster in the next chapter! : )
> 
> And, more good news, I know how and where I'm going to end the story. This fic should be done by the 32nd chapter, with an epilogue that will probably be made into a separate fic.
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading and putting up with my lazy butt. :)


	27. We All Fall Down

Antonio was the first of the group to wake, and similarly, the first to realize what had happened while they had all been dozing restlessly.

He didn't have to look into Lovino's face, or even put his fingers to his pulse, to know that he had slipped away quietly during the night. His skin was cold, and felt like a mannequins hard, unforgiving plastic under Antonio's hands. Antonio had handled many cadavers in his life, and had watched the life drain out of the eyes of many of his patients, but he had never been unfortunate enough to see it happen to someone that he cherished so deeply.

Antonio tried to hold in the sob that threatened to escape his quivering lips, afraid to wake up Feliciano who was curled comfortably into Lovino's side, his fingers twined through his now cold and lifeless ones. He could do nothing but press his head into the space between Lovino's shoulder and head, his nose pressed to his dirty, but still delicate and supple flesh.

Feliciano and Ludwig would wake soon, and though part of Antonio did not want to be anywhere near when it happened, he knew that he had to. He couldn't lose his cool, despite how difficult this was. Eventually Feliciano would feel the cold resonating from Lovino's body, and he would awaken to see his brother, cold and lifeless beside him.

Antonio pressed his forehead to Lovino's one last time, pressing a kiss to his only unstained cheek. "I'm sorry," he whispered, brushing a loose strand of his soft auburn hair behind his ear. "I'm so sorry, Lovi." Antonio squeezed his eyes closed tight to keep the warm tears that threatened to overflow at bay.

Antonio quietly walked across the room and shook one of Ludwig's broad shoulders. The man was meant to keep watch, just in case Lovino passed away in the night and turned, but Antonio knew it was unreasonable to ask that of him. They had been running for days straight, no person could stay awake at that point. They were only lucky that Lovino hadn't turned.

Ludwig opened his eyes in a panic, but upon seeing Antonio's face, he settled. He moved out of the way so Ludwig could see Lovino, whose chest was no longer rising and falling.

Ludwig sucked his bottom lip between his teeth and lowered his head into his hands. Though he didn't necessarily get along with Feliciano's older brother, he knew how much he had meant to him, and what this may do to Feliciano, who was already on the cusp of falling apart.

Antonio opened his mouth to say something, but Ludwig held a finger in front of his lips to quiet him. He walked over the bed on Feliciano's side, and leaned down close to him.

"Feliciano, wake up," Ludwig said, his voice surprisingly unforgiving and cold given the circumstance.

Antonio felt a spark of anger rise in him at the lack of empathy in the man's voice, but he quickly came to understand why he was acting the way he was. Immediately upon waking, Feliciano jolted upright and looked to his side.

Feliciano's eyes widened in horror at the sight of his brother, who he had already thought to have lost once, no longer breathing at his side. Short, panicked huffs of air escaped his throat, and he immediately threw himself over his brother, pressing his ear close to his mouth to check for breathing.

Feliciano turned his panic-stricken eyes on Antonio, "you need to do something, Antonio!"

Antonio couldn't bear to look any longer, and instead looked away from Feliciano. His eyes were already overflowing with tears, cutting muddy streams through the dirt staining his once pink cheeks.

"Why won't you help him?" Feliciano cried, turning back to his brother's lifeless form. Antonio couldn't stand still to watch as Feliciano desperately performed CPR on his brother. He had been dead for a long time, and CPR was not going to bring him back.

Nothing would bring him back.

Feliciano carried on performing the fruitless task for what felt like hours, and the only sound that could be heard from the room was Feliciano's breathy, desperate sobs – his brother's name dying on his lips.

"Please wake up, big brother," Feliciano cried as his warm, salty tears stained Lovino's cold, sallow skin.

\--

"You're not being forceful enough, big brother," Natalia ground out from where she stood beside her brother. She reached down without her brother's consent and grabbed a handful of blonde hair, forcing the person it belonged to deep into a bucket of water.

"Natalia, I don't think he can take much more of this," he said, calm and collected despite the man's desperate thrashing.

"It doesn't matter," she shouted, pressing the man before her deeper into the water. If the water wasn't suffocating him, then the pressure from the floor certainly was. "If they don't tell us what's going on, then we'll all be finished."

Natalia finally raised the man out of the water and threw him to the floor, and, without missing a beat, pressed the flat of her foot against his throat before he could even get a full breath of air into his heaving chest.

"Tino Vainamoinen," Natalia whispered harshly, just loud enough for Tino to hear. "If you do not tell us where the rest of your group is, then we're going to have that little baby take your place."

Natalia removed her foot when Tino's face became a startling shade of blue. Of course, she only stopped with some coaxing and placating on Ivan's part.

"I told you, I have no idea where they could be now. If they were smart, then they already left the mall. People were trying to attack us in there."

Natalia heaved a sigh, "you must have made plans about where to go if you got that far, so tell me, Tino, what were those plans?"

Tino was still gasping for air, and Natalia was about to step on his throat again until Ivan pulled her away from him by her upper arms. Getting impatient and hurting him even more wouldn't get him talking.

Tino put his arms out in front of him so he was seated on his knees in front of the two siblings, swallowing hard before he began to speak.

"We were going to go south, but I have no idea if they all stuck to the plan," Tino gasped. "Now please, please, bring me Peter."

Natalia smirked to herself, then turned to Ivan to share the smug grin with him, the grin that told him that she knew better than him. However, before she left the room to inform the soldiers than one of the captives had broken, she hunkered down in front of Tino's breathless form until the tip of her nose was practically pressing against his face.

"You better not be lying," she whispered, too low for even Ivan to hear, "because I really will kill the child, no matter what anyone says."

Tino stared back into the woman's cold, blank eyes, unflinching.

As cruel as Tino though it to be, he desperately hoped that they would find someone, anyone, so that he wouldn't be made out to be a liar. He knew that they had planned to move north, but there was no telling what had happened. For all he knew, they could have all died in the mall. As it was, they had barely made it out unscathed themselves.

The woman scoffed and motioned for the man behind her – the one she had called brother – to follow her out. Tino had never been more excited to be left alone in his life, he didn't think he could handle being in a room with the two twisted siblings for a moment longer.

He intended to ask them about Peter as they were walking out, but he decided not to test their good graces. The man may not have given him any problems about it, but he knew the woman could easily change her mind. If he irritated her, there was a chance that he would never see Peter again.

So, instead of calling out after them, Tino bit his bottom lip and dropped to his rear on the cold, almost blindingly white floor. There was nothing left to do but wait, wait and hope that everything would work out for them in the end.

\--

"Duck!"

Alfred – though considered slow by most – was blessed with incredibly quick reflexes. He didn't ask nor hesitate before he dropped to his knees, narrowly missing a large stone that fell from the side of the mall.

"What the hell was that?" Alfred asked Arthur, who was now trying to keep up with his gait. Despite Alfred's insistence that he was not fit to walk, Arthur had assured several times that he was perfectly fine. He would occasionally hiss, and he appeared to have an uncomfortable limp, but he would glare if Alfred would even reach out to lend him a hand.

"Someone from inside the mall, I'm assuming," Arthur said from beside him, his head turned up to the darkened building.

"They can rot there," Alfred cursed, "they could have joined us, but instead they tried to kill us. Now look where they are; they're wounded, they've lost people, and the infected are swarming them because of all the noise they made."

"I couldn't agree with you more," Arthur said as they turned a corner into the parking corral. He knew he shouldn't have gotten his hopes up, but he felt a small jolt of sadness when he realized that two of the cars were missing. He was happy that even a small part of the group had escaped, but he was sad that they hadn't been with them when they had. Now, there was no way of knowing what way they had gone, and if they would ever find them. They had agreed upon going north, but depending on what state the group was when they left the mall, there was no telling what way they had decided on.

Alfred pressed a firm hand down on his shoulder, as though sensing his thoughts, "I know, but at least some of them made it out."

Arthur put his head down, his dirty blonde hair casting a shadow over his fine, pale features. His hair had become shaggy, and longer than he had ever let it grow, and he was only now taking notice to it. He hadn't seen himself in a mirror for a while, but he could only imagine that he looked like a mess – if not, he certainly felt like it.

"We might find them, and we might not, but at least we're not alone in this. It isn't a good situation, but it could have been worse." Arthur knew that Alfred was only doing this to make him feel better, but if anything, it was only making him feel worse. He knew Alfred all too well to believe that he was in such high hopes, Alfred was just as afraid as he was.

"You're right," Arthur whispered despite the protest rising up in him, "I mean, if it weren't for you, I would have died back there. As it is, I was certain you had died when that man had thrown you over the drop."

"Let's not think about that," Alfred said, a slight crease forming between his brows. He quickened his pace and trudged toward the two cars that remained in the corral, presumably so Arthur wouldn't see look of distress on his face. "We need to find shelter before it gets dark, and our best bet is if we leave now," Alfred said from in front of him.

Arthur - trying his best to remain optimistic for Alfred - whose very mental state was constantly on the cusp of tipping over, nodded his head and followed close behind him.

Unlike the other two groups, they had started the red car without any problems, and had done like the group had planned and drove north, hoping upon hope that they would find someone along the way. Even one person from their group would be better than nothing.

Alfred and Arthur drove for miles without even so much as glancing at each other. The further they got out into the country, the direr their situation was beginning to look. Gas was generally holding up well, but if they would need to drive for an extended period, gas and oil would eventually become a problem for them. If it came to that, then they would need to begin walking on foot, leaving them exposed to the elements, and the infected.

Arthur felt his eyes slipping closed, his head feeling incredibly light. He tried to blame it on the stress from the day, but he knew that it was something more than just that. The injuries he had sustained were finally presenting themselves, and they were not going over well with him.

However, before Arthur could bring it up, Alfred stepped on the breaks so hard that Arthur hit his forehead on the windshield. Not hard enough to cause a concussion, but hard enough to warrant some anger at Alfred. He was partly happy, however, as it had woken him up enough to be aware of what was going on.

"Sorry," Alfred shouted before Arthur even had a chance to complain, "but I think you're going to forgive me for that lump in between your eyes when you see this."

Arthur rubbed the red mark that was beginning to form on his forehead, leaning over Alfred's lap to look out of the driver's side window. What he saw before him was nothing, nothing but dense trees, darkness, and even more plain, rolling landscapes.

"There's nothing there," Arthur said, a note of panic threatening to break into his voice. Deep down, in a part that he didn't want to acknowledge, he thought that maybe – just maybe – this was the beginning of Alfred's breakdown. He didn't know what a full mental breakdown entailed, but he knew that hallucinations were never a good sign of anything. However, Arthur's worry was soon quashed when Alfred let out a good natured sigh.

Alfred turned the steering wheel until the headlight illuminated a large, boorish looking house with its windows completely sealed up with boards. Whoever was in there had taken their time to make sure the place was sealed up and secure.

"You don't think it could be…"

"I don't think, I know," Alfred quipped, pointing at a charcoal grey car that was parked off to the side of the building. It was strategically hidden, but coupled with the darkness and the light of the headlights, it was easy to tell that it was one of the ones they had planned on using to escape.

Arthur let out a sound that was something between a sigh of relief and a sob. He knew that there was a chance that his younger brother would not be there, but finding other members of the group was a step in the right direction. If they could find these members, then surely the others couldn't have gone very far.

\--

"There's someone outside," Matthew whispered.

"Tell them to leave, I need a few more minutes of sleep," Gilbert said sleepily, rubbing his hands over his tired eyes. Though he had promised to keep watch, he had ended up dozing next to Matthew on the bad, wrapped up in a multitude of blankets. It was nice to feel warm again, a small luxury that had been stripped from them when the infected had suddenly started filling the streets.

"I'm afraid that it's going to be those people from the mall again," Matthew said. Streetlights were no longer working, and it was impossible to see outside through the darkness. "They came here in a car."

At this, Gilbert finally sat up from the cocoon of warmth, hissing when his feet met the cold hardwood flooring.

"What is it?"

"It might be some of our own," Gilbert shrugged, as though he didn't feel excitement and hope running through his veins at the prospect of seeing Ludwig again. We can't just leave them out there with the infected, we need to help them.

"But what if it's-"

"We'll deal with that if it comes to it," Gilbert said, his voice coming our far harsher than he had intended.

Gilbert turned around to look at Matthew, who was still partially under the blankets. Though he didn't look upset by Gilbert's words, he still looked taken aback.

"I'm sorry," Gilbert whispered, crawling across the bed so he was nose-to-nose with Matthew.

"It's fine," Matthew said, "I want to see them as much as you do, but I can't help not trusting people anymore. It's bad enough that infected people are trying to kill us, but it's a whole other thing when people who are healthy like us are trying to kill us."

"Healthy," Gilbert questioned with a cocked brow.

"You know what I mean," Matthew smiled, "and you're getting better. That, I am sure of."

Gilbert ran a hand through Matthew's sleep warm hair, glowing orange from the light of the candles. He looked like he should have, comfortable, warm, and clean, something that none of them had been in a long while. He wondered, absently, as he looked into Matthew's soft blue eyes, if he would have fallen for him if the circumstances had been different.

Gilbert pressed a soft kiss to Matthew's temple, where his own injury was, and then to his soft lips. "Stay here when I go down, if something happens, you can leave through the window. There's a tree close to the bathroom window, you're better off high up from the ground until the morning comes."

"I'm coming down with you, Gilbert," Matthew said without missing a beat. "You can't protect me alone, that's not how this world works anymore. You need my help as much as I need yours."

Gilbert sighed, albeit good naturedly, "I really don't have a choice in the matter, do I?"

"No, you don't."

\--

From what Alfred could tell, there were no infected around them. However, he did not want to take any chances, and drove as close as he could to the boarded up front door. He was certain that someone inside was bound to hear the sound of the wheels crunching the gravel, or see the headlights cutting through the smalls breaks in the boards.

He let the car stand, idling quietly, and waited.

He didn't want to go outside, with the chances of being attacked by one of the infected weighing heavily on his mind. However, his biggest concern was Arthur getting attacked. He couldn't live with himself if he were to let something terrible happen to Arthur again.

"What are we doing?" Arthur asked, his voice sounding thick. "We'll draw attention to ourselves this way, the infected could be attracted to this. It's night time."

Alfred tried to blame the sound of Arthur's voice on him being tired, "I know, but we're in even more danger if we get out. At least if the infected start coming, we can drive away in the car. We're in danger if we're constantly on our feet."

Arthur seemed to agree with this, as he grew quiet from where he sat beside Alfred. He seemed to be in quite some pain, and fidgety to get some rest. His legs were growing restless, and his eyelids heavier by the second.

"Come on," Alfred said impatiently under his breath. He was tempted to lay on the horn, but he knew that he would put himself, and the people inside the building, in danger by doing so.

He was almost about to give up, to drive away and stay in the car at night in the middle of a field where they could see everything coming around them, when one of the boards in front of the window of the door shifted out of place. Even though he could only see one of the person's eyes, the makeshift eyepatch and the startling pink eyes could only belong to one person.

"Gilbert," Arthur said, as excitedly as he could muster. His voice was alarmingly low, and it was clear now that it was not just exhaustion causing Arthur's eyelids to flutter.

"Shit," Alfred cursed, "shit, shit, shit."

Arthur's head began dipping forward, his eyelids fluttering slowly closed.

"No, keep them open," Alfred demanded, his voice louder than necessary. He couldn't let Arthur fall asleep. Though he knew the chances of the man dying were low, there was still a strong chance that he could go into shock – something akin to a coma. There was also a chance that he wouldn't come out of that shock.

The door to the front of the house opened, and Gilbert came bounding out. It seemed as though he had seen Arthur slumping over, judging by the alarmed look on his face. Though he was very focused on Arthur's condition, Alfred felt relief flood through his system when he saw Matthew's face staring back at him from the door of the house.

The passenger door opened, and the lights came on inside the car. Alfred hadn't even thought about Arthur's other injuries until he saw the puddle of blood pooling around Arthur's thighs.

"Oh, God," Alfred said, the only few words that he could muster. He hadn't realized it had gotten so bad, he must have been in so much pain.

Gilbert eyed the mess for a quick second, and when he realized what it was, he unbuckled Arthur from the seat and lifted him out of the car bridal style.

"Matthew can take a look at him," Gilbert reassured, making eye contact with Alfred to make sure that he was still there with them. "Calm down, he'll be fine."

Alfred nodded his head, turning the key in the ignition to shut the car off.

"Come on," Gilbert said, craning his head toward the house. "It's warm, and we can talk inside."

Alfred followed suite without a word, watching quietly as Matthew took Arthur out of Gilbert's hands – listened quietly as Gilbert leaned in to explain what was wrong – and quickly made his way upstairs. Gilbert didn't need to know what had happened, as the explanation was in all of the blood soaking into the passenger seat of the car.

As Alfred waited for Matthew to come walking back down the stairs, to save himself, he tried to keep his mind off of the fact that Francis was nowhere to be seen.

\--

Antonio had let himself out of the room early on, knowing that his presence would only serve to upset Feliciano even more. He didn't blame Feliciano for pinning Lovino's death on him, as he himself was doing the same, but it didn't mean that he wasn't hurt by the implication. He had promised Lovino the very moment he met him that he would protect him, and he hadn't been able to keep that promise. If he had, then he would have been the one who had been bit, and not Lovino.

Antonio scrubbed his hands over his face, weary and upset not just from the day's events, but from what came before them. He had failed in every way possible, and there was no way of correction those failures.

He listened through the door, though not intentionally, as Ludwig tried his best to calm Feliciano. He had taken a stern approach to calming the man down beforehand, but it had become clear very quickly that it wouldn't work. Feliciano was responding to nothing, and Antonio feared that he would never be able to again.

Antonio heard a crash from inside the room, presumably Feliciano knocking something over in a fit of rage, followed by a loud, gut-wrenching sob. Under normal circumstances, he would have been concerned about the infected being drawn to the sound, but he no longer cared. Idly, he wondered if the infected finding them would be for the best. They could just do like Lovino, fall asleep and never wake up again. They would be able to escape from the world that had been so unreasonably cruel to them.

As it was, they weren't fully aware of where they were. The group was supposed to go north, but they had ended up going south because of the infected that had ended up swarming them. The rest of the group were probably headed in the opposite direction, and there was very little chance that they would meet up again. As it was, the very thought of going back to the mall was ridiculous in and of itself.

Antonio himself found himself unable to emotionally react to the situation. It was as though he had drained all of his reserves, and the only thing left for him to do was pity himself, and wallow in his own hopelessness. Tears no longer sprang to his eyes, and the trembling that characteristically followed them never wracked his body. He could now only sit and think about the man who had died under his care, and the people who had been damaged because of it.

Antonio closed his eyes to the onslaught of terrible thoughts. It felt like they had only been shut for a few moments, but judging by the look on Ludwig's face when he opened them a second time, it had been longer than that. Ludwig stood before him, bright red marks and scratches marring his angular face.

"What-"

"It's fine, they aren't dangerous wounds. Feliciano is upset, but he's not upset to truly harm anyone."

Only now, at the mention of Feliciano's name, did Antonio realize that the crashing, screaming and sobbing from the other room had completely ceased. There was now nothing left but the sound of the wind whistling through the weak boards in the house, and the trees rustling outside.

It would be a windy night.

"Is he alright?"

Ludwig laughed bitterly, "well, as alright as he can get, I suppose. He fell asleep."

Antonio put his head down on his knees and let out a small sigh.

"He doesn't blame you, Antonio, he just needs an outlet, and you unfortunately were chosen. He blames himself, if anything. He knows that he never would have seen Lovino if it were not for you."

Antonio raised his head and crossed his arms over his knees, resting his head in the crook of them. He knew that was true, but similarly he could have said that he would have never escaped if not for Lovino. As far as Antonio was concerned, he would have died without having a reason to escape. Lovino had been that reason, but now he was dead.

"Will he turn?" Ludwig asked, finally breaking the heavy silence.

"It varies from person to person," Antonio said without missing a beat, "one of the cadavers only woke up two days after the very first, and some just never woke up at all. I'm hoping that Lovino is one of those cases."

"The room is blocked off, and Feliciano is in a different room. I think it best if we leave while he's sleeping, and leave Lovino here. We'll never be able to leave this place if Feliciano is awake."

Antonio nodded his head slowly, they needed to pick up and leave immediately. He got to his feet quickly, not wanting to stay in the house any longer.

"It's fine," Ludwig said, pressing a steadying hand to his shoulder and squeezing down gently, "I'll take Feliciano out to the car, you can say goodbye."

"No," Antonio said, shaking his head slowly. "I already did, I don't think I'll be able to look at him again."

Ludwig seemed as though he was about to protest to the notion, but he didn't stop him when he brushed past him and walked into the room where Feliciano slept restlessly. Antonio knew that, much like Feliciano, he may lose his mind if he had to say goodbye to Lovino. He wanted to remember him happy and healthy, not cold and unmoving like he was now.

"Let's go," Antonio said from over his shoulder, Feliciano balanced in his arms carefully. "We need to get moving before it gets dark out."

Ludwig didn't protest, and as they drove away from the house, Ludwig didn't comment on how fast Antonio was driving.

The farther they were away from the scene, the better.

\--

Natalia sat behind a large, stainless steel stable. Her heels clacked against the ground impatiently as she waited to hear tell from their boss. If they intended to find the man that they were looking for, then they needed to leave as soon as possible.

She let out a long suffering sigh of relief when one of her soldiers came walking through the door, large red file folder in hand.

"This is him," the soldier said, "the man that you're looking for."

Natalia unceremoniously grabbed the file out of the soldier's hands, ripping it open impatiently. Ivan and Yao both looked over her deceivingly slight shoulders from where they stood behind her, recognition lighting up behind their eyes upon seeing the picture. A picture of the man that they had been looking for all along was pasted onto the first page, and below it, in bold red letters read:

_Patient Zero: Lovino Vargas._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, this came out far later than I intended! I was looking back at some of the earlier chapters, and I was shocked to see that this fic is already two years old. I started writing this in my senior year of high school, and here I am now, a sophomore at Uni!
> 
> I'll try to update as much as possible, but I make no guarantees. Like I said, I won't drop this fic, and I do have plans for the end, but I'm very busy at the moment. Finals are crawling up on me quickly, and I have very demanding Creative Writing assignments to keep up with.
> 
> I am totally not adverse to you guys sending me asks telling me to hurry up, or offering some sort of recommendations on my tumblr! Again, I'm always on, and I try my best to answer them ASAP!


	28. Darling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like maybe the progression of time in this fic isn't so obvious, so I just want to clear that up before you start reading. The times are all coming together now, but I think it will make it easier for you guys if I label what time it is specifically. When I finish this fic, I'm going to go back and put in what time everything is taking place at so that you know what's going on, and most importantly, WHEN it's going on. From here on in, I'm going to start annotating each group's passage with time stamps. Sorry if I confused some of you! :)

_Verona, Italy – 1990_

"You can't keep this act up forever, Darling."

"It's not an act, mom."

"I know my baby boy better than anyone else," she said, stroking his thick auburn hair.

He scoffed and turned away, his cheeks turning pink despite how hard he tried to will the flush to disappear.

His mother could only laugh at him softly, a sweet thing that always made his head turn. He would do anything to make his mother laugh, even though he would act huffed and annoyed when she did.

"Why don't you go outside and play with your brother before supper, look at how lonely he is down there. You don't want to make your little brother sad, do you?"

He looked out of the large Plexiglas window, shielding his eyes from the sun's hot rays, and then down at the pudgy little boy who sat in a sandbox all alone, piling sand around his bare legs. A large yellow truck sat adjacent by his side, and a small red sand pail sat in front of him, filled to the brim with water. He wanted to build a sand castle, that much was clear, but without his older brother's guidance, he didn't know what to do. He could only sit there and stare into the pail of water, hoping that his brother would come out and play with him.

He sighed and took to his feet, trying to ignore the gentle smile on his mother's face as he did so. Though his brother was only three years his junior, it felt like there was a large, gaping hole in between them. He had reasoned that it was because his younger brother was always babied by their parents and had absorbed that affection like a sponge, whereas he, on the other hand, pushed it as far away as possible despite how much he knew he wanted it. His mother and his younger brother seemed to be the only ones in his family that was aware of that fact, however. It was odd, how different he was from his mother and brother, and yet they both seemed to understand him perfectly.

He took the stairs two at a time, despite how much he tried to tell himself that he didn't want to go outside and play with his little brother. He was perfectly content sitting up by the large window, reading a book or just spending the afternoon napping in peaceful solitude. He cared about his brother, and about his family, but his best way of showing it was by not being around them. His negative outlook, and his nasty attitude were things that made them feel bad, and were met with negativity. If he stayed away, then they would be happy.

It was simple, really.

But, according to Feliciano, it was not that simple. His brother, his dumb, ridiculous, clueless, and sweet brother, who smiled at him and looked for his attention despite all of these problems. He would cling to him when he yelled at him, and even through his tears, he would demand that his brother not leave his side. Even if he called Feliciano names at night - tell him to leave him alone - he would always wake up with Feliciano snuggled into his side with a smile on his sweet, doughy face as he waited for him to wake up.

His mouth turned down in a frown.

"Lovi," Feliciano called when he heard the door to the outside opening. He knew it was Lovino before he even turned around. His doughy face stretched into a smile when their eyes met, and he took to his feet immediately. Though he had learned how to walk long ago, his still never failed to remind Lovino of Bambi when he tried to run.

Lovino stared blankly at his brother despite the feeling of joy – pride – when Feliciano motioned him to come sit beside him. The idiot dug a pit with his hands for Lovino to sit, and watched with pure, unadulterated love as Lovino quietly grabbed the pail of water and emptied it out into the sand pit.

Their father grew annoyed when they put water in the pit, as it was a mess for him to clean the mud that caked onto the grass around it. Lovino, however, didn't have a mind to care, because Feliciano's joy was more important than anything.

Feliciano clapped his hands together, the baby fat that still remained on his face jiggling every time his hands collided. Lovino laughed out loud at this, but was only met with a confused stare from Feliciano.

"What is it?" Feliciano asked.

Lovino shook his head, "it's nothing."

\--

_October 12 – 4:00PM_

"The little blonde boy said South," Natalia repeated to her soldiers, "but I want a group on all sides. We can't trust what this boy is saying, and we can't be sure that they haven't changed their minds yet."

Ivan looked as though he was about to protest to the idea, and Natalia put a quick stop to that by stepping in front of him. Despite his being taller than her, it still drew all attention away from him. Natalia had a dominating presence, even more so than Ivan himself. It was no wonder that Natalia had been given the job to bring back patient zero, and not he.

"I will go South," Natalia said without missing a beat, "and with me I will take my sister, and I will also take both regiment twelve and regiment thirteen with me."

Yao was finally the one to cut in, stepping out from the crowd of his own soldiers who were already following Natalia like sheep without so much as a word of protest. "And what of my men, they do not answer to your leader."

Natalia smirked, "their leader is dead, they are free to choose who they follow."

Yao winced, but only for a brief second. He had died, supposedly from suicide, although all of their men were aware of what had truly happened to him. It wasn't honourable, but Yao's men had wanted their president to die, and were quick to jump ship to work with the Russians. However, they were still under Yao's command, meaning that Natalia could not move them without his direct permission.

He didn't think that would stop here, however.

"You cannot take my men," Yao said. "I, for one, want to go back to the mall to look for any survivors. One of the men we were interrogating, Berwald, said that there were people in there that were trying to kill them. For all we know, the man we're looking for could already be dead inside that place."

Natalia seemed to consider this for a moment, and though her body language said that she didn't want to let Yao's men go, she still knew how to follow the rules, albeit without much finesse. If she were to overstep, there was a strong chance that she could lose her position to her older brother. Though she seemed to genuinely care and respect her brother, she didn't want to be beneath him. She wanted to rule over him – to protect him. It was a twisted relationship, if there ever was one.

"Fine," Natalia said. "Then, regiment eleven and thirteen will come with me. Do as you wish with your men, Yao, but do not mistake your position here. You still must report to me, and to the president. You control your men, but you must remember that you do not control yourself."

Yao nodded, though part of him wanted to continue arguing with Natalia, the girl who thought she had much more power than she truly did in the matter. Yao wouldn't put it past her to the kill the president, if she thought that she could protect her brother and herself by doing so. Natalia had become a master of self preservation, and it was obvious that she was willing to sacrifice all of her men if it meant her survival.

"Ivan will go west, out to the plains with regiment 1," Natalia drawled on.

Natalia had gone over the plans for what felt like hours, repeating them over and over so that no mistakes were made when they finally left. They needed to go immediately, so there was no time to sleep on it and think about what they would need to do. They needed to make snap decisions, and hope that they worked out alright in the end. Patient zero was their only hope of fixing things, and if they didn't find him quickly enough, then their chances for fixing what they had done would become near impossible. Most of the world would be gone by that point, and as it was, survivors were already beginning to go insane. Even if they weren't infected, there was no telling if they would be normal again after witnessing the unspeakable horrors that had been unleashed on the world.

It had barely been a month, and those who had been out there looked like they had endured years of the hellish disease.

"I want you to bring this man," Natalia said, pointing at the picture of the auburn haired man named Lovino, "back alive, if he is dead, he is useless to us."

"We can't be certain that he is still alive," Yao said, his brows furrowed. "What are we to do if he is? This mission will have been pointless."

Natalia sighed.

"It is highly unlikely that he is dead," Ivan said, cocking his head to the right so he could meet eyes with Yao. "The bite can't kill him."

\--

_October 13 – 6:00PM_

"Slow down," Ludwig said harshly from beside him. Though he was always the calmest of the group, it appeared as though he was finally reaching his breaking point. Ludwig himself had no idea of where Gilbert was, and he had witnessed unspeakable horrors back in the mall. However, it was odd, the look on his face was not that of fear, but of concern and guilt.

Antonio slowly eased up on the gas pedal, feeling guilty for the way he was acting. Just because he felt like he had no other reason to continue surviving these horrible conditions, it didn't mean that the people around him didn't. They still had family and loved ones that they needed to survive for.

Lovino had died, and Antonio had been partly at fault, but at least he had closure on the matter. Ludwig had none – his brother was still missing, and for all he knew, dead. Feliciano had lost his brother – the only person he had left in this world that was close to him - and who had taken from him not once, but twice. Antonio was selfish for assuming that he was the only one in pain in the group.

"I'm sorry," Antonio said, pressing his forehead into the wheel as he came to a rolling stop in the middle of the road. There was nothing all around them for what seemed like miles. Just an endless maze of trees, fields, and rolling hills. If he didn't know what was happening with the world, he would assume that everything was fine by how fresh and healthy the outdoors looked. "I'm so sorry."

"I am too," Ludwig said, his voice sounding hollow and empty. His words were sincere, but he was distant, like he was beginning to fall away from himself. "I am very sorry."

There was a heavy silence in the car, the only thing that they could hear was the sound of Feliciano's steady – albeit restless – breathing.

What did that mean?

Finally, however, Antonio began to laugh bitterly, "where are we even going?"

Ludwig looked off into the distance, where the sky was beginning to show the telltale signs of going dark. A deep plum red ate away at the bottom of the horizon, slowly creeping its way up toward the sun. He didn't respond, he could only look forward at the monotony before them. Whether his question was figurative or literal, he did not know, but either way, there was no clear answer to either of those questions.

"Let's just get somewhere safe to settle for the night, then we can talk about it," Ludwig said calmly, although his clenched jaw said otherwise. He looked as though he had something to say, but couldn't quite find the right way to say it.

It worried Antonio, as it was the look of a man who was severely burdened. The look of a man who knew something that he didn't. Ludwig had always been quiet, but it was beginning to make Antonio question everything that he knew.

There was a piece of this puzzle missing.

Antonio could only nod his head, making sure to keep his foot from stepping down on the gas pedal. He knew that it was his subconscious that wanted to get as far away as possible from Lovino's corpse, but he knew, deep down, that it wouldn't change things. Even if he couldn't see his body, he knew that the image would still haunt him. The tell-tale bruises that marred his soft, smooth skin as his body began to go through rigor mortis. The deep, purple marks underneath his sweet, olive colored eyes, and his hair, that had grown thin and dry as the disease rapidly progressed. He had told himself that he wanted to remember him when he was healthy, but in reality, Antonio had never actually seen Lovino when he was happy and healthy.

Antonio bit his bottom lip, and kept driving without a word.

\--

_October 13 – 3:00PM_

Gilbert held a hand tight over Matthew's shoulder, trying to slow the bleeding as best as possible. The bullet went straight through, and the bleeding wouldn't kill him, but it would definitely slow him down.

Matthew was good about it, he didn't make any noise when the bullet went through, and he had made sure that the people on the other side of the house didn't know that they had hit anyone.

"It's OK," Gilbert whispered, just barely loud enough for Matthew to hear. "The bullet went clean through, you're OK. You're going to be OK." Gilbert didn't know if he was saying that to comfort Matthew, or himself.

Matthew nodded his head jerkily, and though he seemed as though he was taking it well, it had obviously been very jarring for him. He had been so excited, certain that more of their group had made it back, that he had carelessly made their presence known by taking one of the boards down from the windows. Gilbert could see the rising panic and fear in Matthew's eyes, however, he could also see the rage he felt at himself for being so careless.

Gilbert grabbed the roll of gauze that Matthew always had tucked securely in the pocket of his hoodie and began wrapping it tight around one of his slight shoulders. It was makeshift, and wouldn't serve well to stop the bleeding, but they needed to move quickly. They were all armed, but there were only 4 of them in the house. The group of people outside were suited up in armor, and had far more powerful weapons than them. They were outnumbered and outgunned in every way possible.

Gilbert had been in a number of situations like this, and they had never ended well.

"Who the fuck are they," Alfred asked, crawling up beside Gilbert and placing a hand on the gauze over Matthew's wound. It seemed as though he knew what he was doing, so Gilbert gently pulled Matthew into a sitting position. Alfred had dragged Arthur to the ground when Matthew had been shot, quick to react to the situation.

"I don't know," Gilbert said.

"You don't think that they're people from the mall, do you?" Alfred said, swallowing hard around a lump in his throat. The look on his face told Gilbert everything he needed to know, but he still asked despite his awareness.

"People in the mall?" Gilbert asked.

Alfred looked straight at him, the panic still evident in his eyes, but he still managed to laugh bitterly. "Well, I guess that means you didn't run into any of them, I'm glad for that, at least." His face was pale, but it didn't seem to be the fear that made the color drain from his face. He looked sickly.

"Alfred, what-" Matthew started.

"That's where Arthur's wounds came from," Alfred felt himself shudder violently as he remembered what he had seen happening to his best friend. "They… they were bad people. They told us that they had been keeping an eye on the group for the whole time that we were in the hotel, and that they made sure that the infected got in so that they would drive us out toward the mall."

He wished he had been able to tell them this the night before, when he and Arthur had shown up, but he was so out of his mind with fear that he hadn't been able to conjure up to ability to talk. Hearing of Francis' brutal death had also hit him very hard, and he had fallen asleep restlessly that night without saying a word to the town men. Now, he was more clearheaded. It seemed as though he had gained some perspective from all that had happened, if anything.

Gilbert swallowed hard, part of him had known that there had been foul play - he wasn't happy about it - but he was pleased to find out that it hadn't been someone in the group that had let the infected in. Gilbert bit the corner of his lip between his teeth, he wished that there was a way that he could see outside, but he risked getting them all killed if he pulled another one of the boards away. He had only been able to get a brief glimpse of them when Matthew had taken one of the boards down, but he hoped that it was enough.

"They have silencers on their guns," Matthew said.

Both Gilbert and Alfred looked at Matthew quizzically, waiting for him to continue on.

"They know that sounds draws the infected."

Gilbert's eyes lit up immediately. He knew what Matthew was suggesting, and he also knew how dangerous the suggestion was. However, as the minutes ticked by, it seemed as though it was their only hope.

"Our guns don't have silencers, they're loud," Gilbert said, crawling on his hands and knees past the bed. He reached onto the couch and pulled the duffel bag down.

We need to make a lot of noise," Matthew explained to Alfred, who seemed to finally understand what they had planned. "If we draw the infected over this way, we might find a way to escape these guys. We're more protected than them on the inside of this house, we have walls. If the infected come this way, it might provide the distraction that we need to sneak away."

Alfred looked wary of the idea, if only for Arthur's sake. However, as though Arthur had heard these concerns running through his head, he finally spoke up after a long bout of silence.

"I'm fine," Arthur said, his voice surprisingly steady despite the chaos he had woken up to. "It's not a severe wound, so I know that I can do this. So far, we've been through much worse."

Alfred turned around to face him, looking him over as though he wasn't sure if he wanted to believe him or not.

"If it's our only chance," Arthur whispered, "then I don't want to hold anyone back. Matthew's injury is far worse than mine, and if he can do it in his condition, then I can do it in mine."

Gilbert cocked his gun and pointed it down toward where the window would be if the boards weren't covering it, not bothering to wait for Alfred. Arthur could decide himself, it wasn't Alfred's job to take care of him. He aimed, hoping that he would take out a few soldiers in the process. He waited, without a word, for the others to follow his lead.

"Go," he shouted.

\--

_October 14 – 8:00AM_

"Berwald," Tino shouted, trying to stand despite the chains around his wrists binding him to the cold ground.

Berwald was bruised and beaten, the color completely drained from his face. It seemed as though they had gotten to him, and had hurt him quite badly. Tino was certain, that just by looking at his wounds, he hadn't cracked for the soldiers. He had kept his mouth shut, and hadn't given away anything about the group.

Tino looked at the ground, feeling incredibly guilty.

Berwald dropped to his knees in front of him, and then it finally hit Tino, Berwald wasn't supposed to anywhere near him.

"Berwald-"

Tino felt the heavy metal cuffs holding him to the ground come loose, clattering to the ground in a heap. The lack of weight on his wrists felt odd, and he massaged at the bruises on them with his hands.

"We need to go," Berwald said.

It was only then that Tino saw the blood on Berwald's hands. It was obvious now that not all of the blood on Berwald was his own.

"What did you do," Tino asked, his eyes widening, "Berwald, what did you do?"

"I did what I had to," Berwald said, his face set. "We need to get out of here before the others come back, they will kill us."

"They will now," Tino shouted. "Berwald, they'll kill us, worst of all, they'll kill Peter too because of this!"

"I won't let that happen," Berwald said as he took to his feet, reaching down for Tino's hand. "I won't let them kill any more of us."

Tino felt his heart jump so hard that he felt it in his throat. "What do you mean by 'any more of us'?"

Berwald looked to his left, a brief flicker of worry shone in his striking blue eyes. For an expressionless man, Tino found it easy to read what he was thinking.

"Oh, God," Tino held a hand over his mouth, trying to control the nervous sob that was trying to escape his quivering throat.

"Who did they…"

"Both of them."

Tino finally choked on a sob, knocking Berwald's hand away from him as tears began to pool over his tired lids, running down his rosy cheeks and staining his pants. Berwald stooped down beside him, resting his head on Tino's trembling back. For someone who was constantly in a rush, he was very patient where Tino was concerned.

"They killed them because they wouldn't tell them anything," Tino whispered, his voice thick with tears. "They didn't say anything, and yet I spilled everything. This is all my fault, they would have made it if we didn't meet them in the mall."

Berwald was quiet, comforting Tino by smoothing his hand over his back. He seemed to understand that Tino didn't want to speak, and just sat quietly at his side as he spilled his guts, waiting for him to calm down. Tino knew that he was being unreasonable by not getting up immediately, but the grief struck him incredibly hard. He wasn't even there to see what had happened, they were just dead, just like that.

He wouldn't even have time to properly grieve for them.

Tino slowly took to his feet, refusing Berwald's hand to steady him. He wasn't ill, he didn't need anyone to help him. Berwald had been right in them needing to leave the place. The soldiers had lied to him, told him that his friends were fine, and then had killed them in cold blood, without any remorse. He didn't even know if Peter was still alive.

Tino didn't feel nauseous when looking at the blood staining Berwald's hands anymore, he understood it, he longed for that blood to be on his own hands, if only for a moment. These people had lied to them and had hurt them, and had only done it so that they could find the rest of their group and hurt them too. They needed to escape, and get as far away as possible from the place.

"Let's go," Tino said, staring up at Berwald, who handed him a pistol. He had obviously taken it off of the guards, as it was covered in still-warm blood. Tino didn't know how he had taken down two armed men with his own hands, but he felt comforted in knowing that he was capable of doing something so drastic when it came down to it. If he had Berwald with him, he knew that Peter would be safe.

Berwald, nodded as he walked toward the door, carefully peering around the corner when he opened it. The one good thing about the facility that they were in was that it was relatively new, and it was difficult to hear people walking around, and even harder to hear doors opening. Berwald and Tino were both barefoot, they could do this.

If anything, the armor on the men who were guarding the place was a hindrance.

"Do you know where he is," Tino whispered when he was sure that there was no one in the room with them.

"Yes," Berwald said, "they were keeping him in the Russian man's room."

Tino grit his teeth at the idea that someone else, someone that was doing such terrible things to so many innocent people, was handling an innocent baby like Peter.

By the minute, Tino was feeling more and more ashamed of himself, and how cowardly he had been compared to the others. It seemed as though all the others from his group had done so well and had been so brave, and yet he was here, oblivious to what was going on around him, and had given away the other members of his group in the process.

"We're close," Berwald said when they took another corner, breaking Tino free of his self-pity. When they opened the next door, it led into a room whose appearance was jarring. The facility had looked almost completely sterile white, and here they were, in a room that was wine red, and covered in gold trimmings. It was like something out of fantasy novel.

"What is this-" Tino said, uneasiness creeping into his voice.

"From what I understand, this was a plan that was long in the making," Berwald said. "This is not a normal CDC."

Tino looked ahead, and in the room, there was a staircase leading deeper into the facility.

"What is-"

Tino felt something whizz passed his head, rustling his fine blonde hair. He didn't even have time to react when he saw Berwald turn around and shoot several times.

The sound of something hitting the ground was what finally was caused Tino to turn around.

On the ground lay a young man with Golden brown hair. He didn't have any particular armor on, just a plain green suit, he looked relatively harmless. The gun in his left hand, however, said otherwise.

Berwald didn't waste any time walking up to the man and grabbing him by the lapels of his uniform, dragging him up so that he was eye level. The man choked on his own blood, some of it spattering against Berwald's face. He seemed unfazed, however, and shook the man hard.

"The baby," Berwald demanded, "where is he? He was in this room, I saw that man taking him in here."

The man choked up more blood, spitting it up onto his own shirt. He had been shot in the stomach, but it appeared as though it had hit something vital. His eyelids were already growing heavy from the severe bleeding.

"Down," was all the man could muster. "He's downstairs."

"Toris!"

Tino looked up, and there stood a young man with tousled blonde hair, his skin rough and wind chafed. He resembled the man that Berwald had a tight grip on, only younger. He lifted up his gun, but before he could do so, Tino pointed his at the man Berwald was holding. Tino body was acting before his mind could even begin to fully process what was going on. Being around the infected for so long had its benefits, or so it seemed at the moment.

"I'll shoot him if you do anything," Tino finally warned, however his hands shook despite how much he willed them to steady themselves. He had killed some of the infected before, but he had never actually killed a living, breathing, human being before. He didn't know if he could do it, no matter how much he wanted to for all the suffering that they had imposed on them for nothing. "Just tell us where the baby is, and I won't shoot this man."

The blond boy bit his bottom lip, hard enough to leave angry white marks on his skin. He was young, far too young to be a soldier, and if Tino played his cards right, he believed he could manipulate him for their gains. Tino was confident in himself, at least until the small blonde man began crying. Large, heavy tears dropped from his eyes as he looked at the man in Berwald's hands.

"Please don't hurt him," he cried. "He's all I have left."

Tino felt the hold on his gun loosening despite himself. Here he was, prepared to kill two very young men who probably had nothing to do with what was going on, all for his own sick revenge. Two innocent young men who had no experience, and probably hadn't even been near the infected, and Tino was willing to shoot them dead because of the actions of the people around them.

Tino slowly lowered his gun, however Berwald's hold on the man did not falter.

"Please," the young boy called, "He's downstairs, I'll show you the way." The boy began walking forward, toward Berwald and the man named Toris, one hand outstretched. "Please, just don't hurt him anymore."

Tino was prepared to trust him, he was certain that a young boy couldn't do any harm, until he saw a glint of silver peeking from out of his pocket.

"Berw-"

Just as the knife was about to be plunged into Berwald's stomach, Tino fired his gun. He shot once, and got the boy in the arm. The boy dropped the knife and backed up, eyes wide in horror. It would have been enough to stop him, that was for certain, but Tino didn't stop shooting.

He couldn't stop.

Tino shot again, this time getting the boy in the shoulder. Again, and he nicked his neck. Again, and a bullet plunged itself into the man's pelvis. Tino shot again and again until the gun clicked – empty.

Berwald dropped the man in his hands to the ground after taking his gun from him. He was barely breathing, only shuddering from the loss of blood. However, he managed to drag himself toward the young boy. Tino could hear the gasping sobs, but only distantly. He could only feel the steady, heated thrumming of his heart, and the adrenaline that was pumping through his veins like liquid fire.

He didn't even notice that he was still pressing the trigger of his gun until Berwald came to his side and pushed his arm down to his side, taking the gun away from him. The concern was evident in his features.

"Tino, it's enough."

Despite the reassurance, Tino's finger was still twitching as Berwald led him toward the stairs, leaving behind the two dying men.

\--

_October 13 – 3:30PM_

Gilbert heard a few cries of pain, and felt satisfied knowing that they had hit a few of the soldiers when they had let loose their barrage of bullets. Though it probably wouldn't hinder them all that much, any kind of distraction was good for them. He was concerned, however, when he realized they weren't firing back at them. He had had a brief glimpse of their weapons, and he knew that a good portion of them were powerful enough to rip straight through the house. They could easily kill them all if they all started firing at once.

"They want someone," Matthew said, as though reading Gilbert's mind. "They're not trying to kill us, they want one of us."

Gilbert could only nod his head, hoping that this was the case. They would have to wait, wait and hope for the infected to come after them. He didn't care if they wanted them dead or not, he didn't want those people anywhere near them. They were dangerous, that much was obvious. Gilbert had met people like them before, they were not North American soldiers, they were from somewhere foreign.

"Their uniforms," Gilbert said aloud, "they're not from here."

Realization dawned on both Matthew and Alfred's faces. Arthur hadn't managed to see them, but he trusted Gilbert's judgment. "They're Russian soldiers."

Alfred's eyes widened.

"They did this," Alfred said without any hesitation. "They did this, and they're trying to get rid of anyone that's left after the attack. This disease was an attack."

Matthew let out a shuddering breath, feeling the hope that had grown when they had found this place crumbling into fine dust. The Russians would greatly outnumber them, there was no possible way that they could ever live through such a large scale invasion.

"God," Arthur said, holding the back of his hand to his mouth to hold down the sickness that threatened to surface. All of their faces seemed to green at the prospect. There was no doubting it now, all of this was not some freak experiment gone wrong. This was controlled.

They didn't have time to dwell on it, however, when they heard the first set of shouts of fear, and gunshots coming from outside.

The infected had heard their call for help, and had answered with vigor.

\--

_October 13 – 10:00PM_

Even after hours of driving, they hadn't found a place where they could stop. Their gas was running dangerously low, as was their own sanity. Feliciano had finally woken up, but instead of becoming violent like he had before, he sat in the back in silent resignation. He didn't not put up a fuss that they had left behind Lovino's body, or that they had left without telling him, he just sat in silence.

Ludwig had crawled into the back and sat beside him, and he wasn't met with protest, but with silence.

Antonio could see the worry on Ludwig's face, he could feel it in himself, but they knew that it was best to keep quiet. If they pushed him anymore, Feliciano would break, and they both knew that they couldn't bring him back when he did. As it were, Feliciano was already dangerously close to losing all sense of himself. at least what was left of him.

Antonio watched as the gas gauge reached lower and lower, feeling his eyelids growing heavy as he stared out at the endless, open road. He wondered, absently, if driving off of the road and into the trees would be such a terrible thing. If he just ended it all for them right here. Speed up, and let the car veer off into the trees.

Quick and painless.

Just as he felt himself about to succumb to the urge to do so, he saw two sets of lights up in distance.

He felt Ludwig tense behind him.

"Do y-"

"It can't be them," Ludwig shook his head in the rear view mirror. He was sitting in the back seat with Feliciano, stroking his hair. "That isn't a normal car."

Feliciano finally reacted to this, sitting up stiffly to stare forward at the oncoming car.

"Turn around," Ludwig said.

Antonio slowly began rolling to a stop, "why?"

Antonio didn't like that Ludwig felt so certain about this, almost as though he had been expecting it to happen.

"Turn around, and drive as fast as this car can go," Ludwig shouted, not bothering explaining himself to Antonio. Antonio felt goose pimples freckle his arms, however he listened to Ludwig without any hesitation. The man was very worried, and he had no doubt that he had every reason to be, but perhaps not for the right reasons.

Antonio quickly turned around.

The car behind them was moving very quickly, they were clearly in a rush to get to them.

Antonio stepped on the gas. "Ludwig, what is it."

"It's an armored car," Ludwig said.

"Isn't that a good thing?" Antonio asked, looking in the rear-view mirror at the rapidly approaching car. They were in a rush for a reason.

"Do you not see the flag?"

Antonio looked carefully, he couldn't see much through the darkness, but every now and then the flag would flicker out in front of the headlights. Red white and blue, but not the pattern he had grown used to seeing them in. Horizontal stripes is what he saw.

"I don't understand," Antonio said. "What does it mean, and why are we running? They might be here to help out the survivors."

"They're going to try to kill us," Ludwig said without missing a beat. His voice was laced with absolute certainty.

"What do you mean, how do you know this isn't relief?"

"This is their attack."

"Attack… What are you talking about?"

"They've been planning this for a very long time," Ludwig said, a rising hysteria in his voice. "The infection spread because of them, it was something they made."

Antonio was silent, and just as he was about to open his mouth, Feliciano looked into Ludwig's eyes and spoke for the first time since they had left the house. "How do you know this?"

Ludwig swallowed hard, "Virus M09." Ludwig almost sounded relieved to say this, tension visibly leaving his shoulders.

This was why Ludwig had been so quiet, this was what he had wanted to tell them.

"Ludwig, how do you know this?" Feliciano demanded, his voice high and rough from crying and screaming for so long. Antonio felt his heart sink into his stomach. The car behind them was getting closer and closer, and it seemed as though things inside the car were taking a dramatic turn for the worse.

Feliciano grabbed Ludwig hard by the label of his coat, his fingers turning white from his tight grip. Ludwig did not fight him, and just sat there in resignation as Feliciano got into his face.

"Tell me this isn't what I think it is," Feliciano demanded, his voice wavering, not with anger, but with disappointment and betrayal. His actions were so out of character, this harsh side of him was something Antonio had never seen before. It was as though Feliciano had turned into a completely different person.

Ludwig turned his face away from Feliciano, refusing to meet his eyes.

"This is why you were so damn quiet," Feliciano cried, his voice almost deafening in the confined space. "You had something to do with this."

Feliciano finally let go, and sat back down heavily next to him, he let out a heavy breath of air. "You had something to do with this, and yet you let us carry on like this the whole time. I knew it, I knew there was something wrong back at the house."

"I would never have done this-"

"Shut up," Feliciano shouted. "Shut up."

Feliciano ran his fingers through his dirty hair, pulling at the strands until a mass of them came loose.

Antonio didn't know what to say, there was no possible reaction to what he was hearing.

"I didn't think it would get this far," Ludwig said.

"Is this why you agreed to go with Gilbert to come here? You knew it was going to spread, and your best bet at protecting him was to go with him. You didn't want to leave him alone here to die."

Ludwig was quiet, which was all the confirmation Feliciano needed.

Feliciano let out a deep laugh, and it almost sounded as though it had come from a completely different person. "I hope he's dead."

Ludwig finally looked at Feliciano at this, dread in his eyes.

"I hope he suffered, and I hope he knew what kind of man you were before this happened. I hope he knew that his precious little brother, who he thought was so great, was a cold-blooded murderer."

Ludwig grit his teeth. The look on his face said that he wanted to hit Feliciano, but the other part of him looked guilty.

Feliciano let out a sob, but no tears fell down his cheeks, his reservoirs had all but dried up. "I got mad at my brother, my brother who I love more than anyone, because he didn't trust you!"

Ludwig remained silent.

"I trusted you, right from the start, and followed you around like a puppy," Feliciano spat. "All that time I followed you around, I could have been spending time with my brother. I saved your life, back at the hotel, and this is what I get in return?"

"This isn't what I wanted."

"No, you didn't want to get attached, but here we are," Feliciano whispered bitterly. "You got attached, and now you feel guilty."

Ludwig didn't argue with him, he knew that it was true.

"Then try to feel my pain," Feliciano said. Before Ludwig could question what he meant by that, Feliciano opened the door beside Ludwig. He leveraged himself by the handles of his door, and kicked Ludwig in the shoulders. The man wasn't wearing a belt, and he tumbled of the door and onto the grass outside with a heavy thump. At the speed Antonio was going, he didn't know if Ludwig would survive or not.

"Feliciano," Antonio cried, the car swerving as he tried to take in what had happened. It was so quick, all of it had happened so quick.

Feliciano pulled the door closed and climbed up into the passenger side. "You're not going to die here," Feliciano said. "You're going to live, Antonio."

Antonio looked at Feliciano beside him. His eyes had cleared, but not for the better. In his once soft, hazel eyes, he saw nothing but burning rage as he grabbed a strong hold of the steering wheel and turned it toward the oncoming car. The car came to a screeching halt, and Feliciano threw the passenger door open, letting himself out.

The armored car was getting dangerously close, however, Feliciano leaned into the car to peer at Antonio as though he had all the time in the world.

"I know what's happening now," Feliciano said, his voice filled with a quiet sadness. "I know what's happening."

Antonio was confused, he was ready to get out of the car too, but Feliciano was quick to stop him.

"No," Feliciano said, holding Antonio's shoulder. "Drive away from here, drive far away and try to find the others. I know what I'm doing. I'm not as weak as you think I am, Antonio. If you care about my safety, then you'll leave right now."

Feliciano leaned in before Antonio could protest and pressed a soft, gentle kiss to one of his cheeks, a kiss that was often reserved for the dearest of family members. "Thank you, for protecting my brother and I all this time."

Feliciano shut the door and walked away from the car, pulling down the rifle that was slung neatly over his shoulder.

Every part of Antonio wanted to get out of the car to follow after Feliciano, but he needed to do as he said. He trusted Feliciano – he trusted that he knew what he was doing.

Antonio started the car and drove away, the sound of gunshots echoing in the open field behind him. Antonio didn't look back.

\--

_October 14 – 9:30AM_

The stairs to the basement of the building had been long and winding, dangerous in the sense that they could not see what was coming from the front and the back. There was a reason for that, Tino was sure, but he wasn't certain if he wanted to entertain what that reason was.

The basement had been the same sterile white - albeit the lights were much dimmer - as the above floors, but it was obvious that this part of the building was made for something different, something sinister.

Tino's first concern, and first confirmation that something terrible was happening, was when he realized that access to all of the rooms were unblocked. No locks, no keycard passes necessary, save for one room that stood at the far end of the vast, dark room. He didn't want to talk, because his voice would echo.

It was only when he heard Peter's cry that he perked up. The baby was not far from them.

Of course, the only problem with that was that the sound was coming from the room before them.

Lights flashed on in the room before them, and it was only then that they realized the locked room was surrounded by thick, clear windows. However, it is what they saw inside that made their joy turn to absolute terror.

Inside the glassed in room sat Peter, in one lone crib in the middle of a large white room. Beside him, with only a small barrier between them, was a room with two of the infected.

It was who they were that threw Tino into a rage.

Lukas and Mathias stood in the room adjacent to Peter, slamming their fists and their bodies against the window in an attempt to get to him, completely mindless from the brutal infection coursing through their veins.

Tino ran, without even considering that this was obviously a trap, toward Peter. He didn't care if it was a trap, he needed to get to him before anything could happen. He had already failed so many people, he couldn't fail Peter too. He would do anything to save him.

Tino threw himself against the locked door, but with no fruition. The door was a solid iron, he could see that just from looking, and knew that nothing could penetrate it. If they wanted to get in, they needed a key, and he knew that the only person that would have it would be the tall Russian man, or his violent sibling, both of whom were gone.

Tino, despite this, continued to batter his fists against the unforgiving door, as though that would cause it to open for him, as though it would feel his desperation and allow him access out of pity. He shouted and threw his body against it until he was certain that his entire right side of his torso would be severely bruised.

Berwald didn't stop him.

It was only when a voice from over the speakers came through that he realized their situation was even more dire than he had initially assumed.

"Tino Vainamoinen and Berwald Oxenstierna," the heavy accented voice said. The man was Russian, just like the two siblings that had tortured them for information about their group. "You've killed some of my men."

Tino was silent, he knew that having a back and forth with the man would be fruitless. He returned to his task of throwing himself against the door and pounding against it, breaking to grab one of the chairs that stood beside one of the pillars and threw it against the window keeping him away from Peter. He knew that his actions would be fruitless, but that didn't stop him from trying.

"You've killed my men, I feel that it is only reasonable if I kill some of yours."

"You already have," Tino cried in frustration, dropping to his knees in front of the mirror. Peter was only a breath away, so close that he could almost feel his soft downy hair. The baby was oblivious to what was going on, cooing and playing with his feet quietly.

The voice was silent, but the static from the speaker said that the man was still there, listening and waiting.

"For good reason," the man said.

"What reason could that possibly be?" Berwald asked.

"For the sake of saving humanity," the voice said casually, as though that were something he talked about a lot. "You two do not understand just how serious this situation is."

Tino laughed, "dead people walking around, eating people? No, of course we don't understand how serious this is."

The voice laughed, however, it was full of humour. This man, the man that was keeping him away from Peter, thought this was genuinely hilarious. His laughter carried on for what seemed like hours, until it slowly eked away into sickening chortles, causing a blinding, white-hot rage to well up inside Tino.

"You can tell that you and these two men were related."

Tino froze up, then opened his mouth.

"Let me guess, you're going to ask 'how do you know that'?" The man chuckled again. "Oh, I've known the lot of you for a very long time, Tino Vainamoinen."

Tino felt the wind being knocked out of him, as though someone had physically hit him.

"You're probably asking yourself questions like 'why me?'" The man sighed, "well, you just happened to be there, that's why."

Tino felt sick, and before he could even lean over properly, he expelled the meager contents of his stomach onto his pants, and then the floor.

"You all lived because I allowed you to, a small gift from me," the man said. "Now, I'm going to take that gift back."

Tino watched in resignation as the door between Peter, Lukas, and Mathias opened.

\--

"L…L…Ke…Lov...Heart…Up."

Lovino turned onto his side, his limbs felt stiff and cold. His heart thumped sluggishly against his rib cage, as though it were trying it's very best to wake him up.

"Sweetheart, wake up."

He opened his eyes, and beside him stood his younger brother, his mother, and his father. Feliciano was so small that he could barely see over the top of Lovino's bed, but he tried his best to climb up with him.

His mother saw him struggling, and lifted Feliciano up on the bed. He immediately crawled up next to his brother and wrapped his arms around his neck, pressing sloppy kisses to his cheeks. For once, he didn't want to push him away, and he wrapped his little brother up in his arms. Feliciano curled into his side, his hair still soft and sleep-warm.

"You're sick, baby," his mother said as his father placed a cool hand against his forehead. "You're sick, but you can get through this. You're strong."

Lovino was confused.

"We love you, sweetheart, and we miss you," his mother said, a stray tear rolling down her cheeks.

Lovino couldn't find the voice to speak, nothing would come out of his mouth. 'But I'm right here, mom', is what he wanted to tell her. 'I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere'.

His mother ran a soft hand down his cheek, "I always knew you were special," she whispered.

Lovino blinked in confusion, his mother was being strange.

He noticed that Feliciano's warm weight had disappeared, and he was now alone in the room with his mother and father standing calmly at his side.

His father was the next to sit down beside him, leaning in to press a kiss against his forehead. "I want you to stay, but you need to go," he whispered.

"Fix this," his mother said. "This is what you were meant to do."

Lovino felt tears welling up in his eyes at the confusion he was experiencing. He felt like he was dreaming, but it all felt so real. He could smell his mother and father, who always smelled like fresh chamomile, and the constant smell of fresh flowers that lingered in the air in their beautiful house was present too. He could reach out and feel his mother's soft hair, and his father's stubbly face.

"You're so strong," his father whispered. "You're so strong, so I know you can do this. You just need to wake up."

'But I am up,' Lovino wanted to cry at them, his heart was beating so fast he could feel it in his throat. His veins began to thrum, and his lungs began to work at an steady pace. His skin became hot, and tingled in the cool night air.

"Wake up, Lovino, wake up and do what you were always meant to do."

Lovino opened his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, um, yeah. I would apologize for confusing the hell out of all of you – and perhaps scarring you a little – but it will ALL be explained soon. We're so close to the end, I can almost taste it! I needed to pull an all-nighter today to catch up on some work for class, and at about 5 in the morning everything was done, so I decided to edit this baby up for you guys. I'm pretty darned tired, so I'm sorry if there are a few errors in here.
> 
> I hope you guys like this nice, long-ass chapter. I feel like this might be one of the most "eventful" chapters in this fic, and I'm happy to say that it only gets wilder from here on! Really, this fic doesn't slow down until the very, very end.
> 
> It will get slightly more confusing in the next chapter, but things will start coming together rather quickly.
> 
> I also want to tell you guys that there will be an epilogue that will go along with this! I actually had that written about a year ago, because I was so excited about the ending of this fic. The epilogue isn't necessary, but it will definitely make you look at this story in a completely different light after you finish reading!
> 
> Thanks for reading and commenting, it really keeps me going. All the nice comments and words of encouragement really make my day! :)


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